On days you choose to visit me, dear afternoon nap,
mostly minutes after eating a plate of chicken biriyani,
I draw the curtains and the act for the day is paused.
I sway in your cradle of comfort with the motion of
uncooked spaghetti softening in boiling water. You
come as a no-alarm-staycation. You seep in gently
pulling the plug off all the sounds — the kooing of the
koyal, noisy neighbor, & the grr-grr of the grinding
machine. Being with you is like soaking myself in a
bathtub filled with warm water, laced with lavender
scented candles, while sipping a glass of rose wine;
my ideal way to rejuvenate. You surprise me with a
bouquet of sunflowers in every dream. Sitting
surrounded by purple walls, my favorite color, you and
I know the hours we spend together aren't enough,
we want five more minutes of this. But the water in the
bathtub is becoming colder, and I have been told if you
love someone you should let them go, they always find
a way to come back.
Swagatika floats between feeling like a cloud and a tree. A cheerleader for solitude, she writes, performs poems & stories, makes zines, and goes on dates with art. Living in Bangalore, she is a copywriter by profession. When not thinking about afternoon naps, she travels alone to anywhere her bank balance decides. As a spoken word artist, her work has been featured by Tales & Tacos. Meet her @swagatika.sarangi on Instagram.