Countless broken hearts

It’s been a catastrophic April in India, with Covid-19 ravaging the country and causing bottomless suffering. I’ve tried to write micro-poetry through it all (on instagram – @tp_poetry), only to realize that there are not enough words for pain and grief. This was the last poem for April. Where do we go from here? What will May bring?

countless broken hearts:
each fragment a universe
in which stars are dying.
there is a reason we should not see
stars imploding —
the sky is part-dream, part-faith, wholly alabaster,
the ceiling that keeps out the endless deluge,
the monsoon is our one unspoken compromise.
but now silver turns to dust in wet eyes.
grief that needs to be intensely personal,
grief that belongs inside the occasional soul,
that grief is now plural.
we hold that polished stone inside our chests,
abandoned, naked,
naked in this city of wailing mirrors.

8 thoughts on “Countless broken hearts

  1. I am at a loss for words that might begin to touch the grief and despair that surrounds you and leaves your heart crying. I only know that writing your poetry is one of the few paths that will lead back to the light.



    1. Thank you. And poetry seems to be the only saving grace in the fog. Though it can barely console even the poet. I do hope that light appears soon!


  2. I have thought of you every day of your country’s crisis. It must be absolutely devastating. Such a helpless feeling. Have you and your husband been able to get vaccinated? Please take care.


    1. Thanks so much, Sarah. It is heartbreaking when you can’t even leave home to help someone or offer condolences. Hopefully we’ll hit the peak soon and start to recover. Fingers crossed.


  3. Grief so beautifully expressed, Rajani. It is incomprehensible, the suffering we are seeing on the news in your country. I think we all hold that polished stone of grief in our hearts. Stay safe.


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