Stranger at the Dining Table

i. June 5th, 2014

Papa sat in the same rocking chair he always sits in, drinking from the cup he’s always had, reading a book like he always does. But in the safety of suspicion, my mind whispers, “You do not know this man.”

You do not know this man. Wrinkles break the skin in my memories. You do not know this man.  Soft stubble looked hazardous, a yellow warning sign. You do not know this man. Callouses conquer the hands that tucked me in, his book held in a chokehold. You do not know this man.  The tenderness of chestnut eyes cracked open to something rotten. The lamp too dim and the night too dark, but somewhere in myself, I knew. 

ii. November 12th, 2014

At the dinner table, Mama smiles her smile, frayed. “How was your day, meri jaan?” I do not know who she is asking. But she waits with her smile and he fiddles with the knife and I say, “It was fine. Just like any other day.” Mama feigns satisfaction with my excuse with her well-practiced nod of approval. Dinner goes on.

ii. November 25th, 2014

You do not know this man. He does not want to drive. He loves to drive. Mama gets behind the wheel she so very despises. He shrinks in the passenger seat. The radio never got fixed so the silence screams its discomfort. I shuffle and the car behind us blares. Mama drives as though her life is precious. I pause. His face is moonstone and his breath a broken record. I feel. He blinks. He’s fine. Smudges in the dichotomy of what is and what isn’t. We reach my school. I wave goodbye. Regret wavers. But sometimes loves are lost and broken stays broken. 

iii. April 7th, 2015

Tassels dance and people cry. He is not here. (It does not matter to me.) Mama smiles, crumpled paper smoothing out. The absence is me. I will move out tomorrow. You do not know this man. I am happy. He is not here. I am happy.

iv. October 20th, 2013

Mama drowns us in her river. White widows line the trees. Everyone has guns, casual. Nobody smiles. Nobody explains. Shots ring, nobody panics. “Where is Papa?” I wonder.