Warm Hearth Burnt Home (The Third Wok)

Take this, my heaped scorn on all that you say must be.
This my arrogance in the face of your sanctions and your desire.
I do not care how you hurt, how you crave, how you survive.
I do not care that you do not care how deep my cut runs.

Here, all that you say I must, done, but do not ask this of me
Do not ask that I be who I was and feel what I felt because it must be so
Do not say but I am yours, for there are laws beyond I am yours
And I must be above all else true to me, true to be.

I shall turn, shall return, shall fulfill all I must
For I have done untold harm, for that I know there is no rerun
I must walk the path that I have chosen, must follow my heart
And for the harm I’ve done, I will burn, I burn, will always burn.

Know this to be true, in the face of all I say, all I do
I have loved you wordless and always will, like the glowing moon
Yet in the night, I hear the call, and I must reply, I must reply
To my heart I must be true, if its all a lie, then true to the lie.

The Morning (The Second Wok)

“Want to sit?”
“No let us try and get three kilometers out and then stop.”
“Try and get back early today.”
“And send someone to get two kilos of sugar and a small packet of almonds from Shanthi Stores before you leave.”
Okay. Message me sometime so that I don’t forget.”
“Forgot to tell you. Wednesday, I will be late. Several appraisals that have piled up.”
“I needed to ask you something.”
“Do you believe you have it in you to be dishonest?”
“You know I can’t pretend.”
“Yeah, but if you had to.”
“Like what, tell a lie? Or suppress what I am feeling?”
“If I had to, I guess I could and perhaps I would. I really don’t know. Why do you ask?”
“See what that fellow is doing.”
“When is you next doctor’s visit?”
“10th of next month.”
“I almost look forward to the visits. I get to see people and shops. While I wait for you to finish and come out, some of the older people will stop by and chat and go. Even the ones I dislike seem welcome. It is so boring to spend your day with a succession of maids.”
“I know.”
“What’s for breakfast?”
“Soup and bread for you, I will probably finish the idlis from yesterday.”
“Why did you ask about dishonesty?”
“Just like that. I think, rather I would like to think that I am incapable of being dishonest, but then I have to be that way so often, five times, ten times, God knows, hundreds of times, at work, where I cannot tell people what I am really thinking. It happens all the time, and then later I wonder, I don’t even feel guilty, Is something wrong with me? That’s why.”
“Lets sit.”
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