Santoshi I am now,

Opening one of the two 

Remaining big doors —

The ones that bring a surge of darkness,

That know only to rise

In a gasp of deep breath

Only to be held down at once

Suppressing unrestrained tears.

A moment that has made me

Shut that door again, 

To be opened another time.

An intention I embraced,

Mine to carry —

Refusing to purge

In the ayahuasca ceremony.

Fragmented memories of her

I clutch from childhood —

Perhaps a transfigured reality

From decades of stretched emotions, 

Into transparent dreamstories 

Held together by a lingering fragrance

Of my mother.

I wait for the day 

When the threshold can stay open,

Dissolving darkness

Into the lightness of Kashmir

Breathing without restraint

Whiffs of wildflowers 

Where she sat by the river.

And I suspect

I have searched for her

Ever since —

Locked in those tears 

Of a boy who never went 

To the riverbank

To let her be.

When I pay homage

On the banks in Varanasi

Left unfinished 

At fifteen,

As I bring him into the now —

Snapping the elastic of time.