Grandpa | Ila Railkar

What do I say about Grandpa, who died today?
After three years of being bedridden
My first thought is:
Good riddance

His dark eyes stare at me from the frame
A part of him is still in the air
I drop my gaze from him
I look away

I’d never forgiven him for the comparisons with my cousins
And hadn’t seen him in three years
A bruised heart for a
Bruised heart

I had swapped corporate law for horticulture
Only this September at the uni
Studying at last what I
Truly loved

The will reads–he has left me his pride, his paradise, his garden
I rush there and clasp the middle of an old banyan
And weep, “How?”
Over and over.

Ila Railkar is a Mumbai-based doctor and a poet by passion. She often writes on themes of feminism, identity, and belonging. Her work has appeared in LiveWire, Indian Cultural Forum, and Indian Periodical.