The children are here to play
and trick each other, and
people come to pay respect
to the ones and things, they care for.
For without this day, all creatures
hide under mattresses, like
A family reaches places, to repeat
vows they make every year, on this day.
The new year has ended, Diwali’s gone,
Christmas just passed, and I’m still here.
The barnyard floods with water:
the mudslide washing everything away.
The year ends on a colourful note,
the seas of the jungle turn from blue to green.
Everything lights up from weeds to sand, and the sky.
Our faces gleam at each thing we face, our heads turn
to greet those unknown to them.
The treats of the day flow like sugar-free potions gulped,
swallowed, suckled upon: It’s like the feasts at every festive occasion.
This day ends on a high note, with children beneath the starlights tiring:
The dancing and singing would be remembered, for
tomorrow all the colours might be washed away,
by the winds of the storm, that might present;
the shattering of one’s nightmare.
Rishan Singh is a writer based in Durban, South Africa. He started writing poems from a very young age. His short story titled ‘Holiday Time’ received a positive review from the South African Writers Circle in 2012. In 2008, he received the Golden Key International Award for academic excellence, which also recognised his achievements as writer and poet. His poetry has been published in South Africa and overseas, and his fiction writing appears in books published in the USA and elsewhere.