Rahul Misra
I write mostly poetry, and some fiction. You may find an essay in my feed once in a while. Connect at http://rmisra.com or me@rmisra.com

How much of him can I really be expected to remember? It was more than thirty years ago and we were only toddlers. I can’t recall his voice or how tall he was or what his face looked like. …

There is cracked china in the sink.
Ornate cutlery once saved for special
occasions. Mustard oil and smears of
grease. Half eaten chicken legs.
Okra curry untouched on
the salty ceramic.

Takeaway boxes with tucked lapels
sit on the counter. Full of basmati rice
a forensic investigator would find
mildly interesting.
What happened…

Rahul Misra

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