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Poonam’s love poem is about a strained marriage that unexpectedly changes her perspective in Valentine’s month, exclusively for Different Truths.
What if I were to find a new Valentine in my late fifties? I am certain my dear husband would not be on the list. As much as I know myself, I will never pluck a rose for him from My beautiful, well-protected garden, Nor spend my savings buying chocolates or Teddies. Proposing the same man again Is beyond imagination when I regularly regret The vows and promises, I made it decades back. I might give an occasional casual hug Or plant a kiss on the wrinkled cheek. Of my old man on rare days, When we don't indulge in nasty fights. However, tiffs are appetizers. We take it up, day and night. The entire week passed. All attempts failed to find a perfect lover. Finally, Valentine's Day arrived. My old man asked if I would like to go out to dine. Pleasantly surprised at his invitation I dressed myself in a glittery, red, and bright gown And took his hand in mine, Apologising vocally for underestimating his romantic skills, Of being an appropriate Valentine. As we stepped out, He realised it was a day of love, So, refused to join the crowd. And he declined his offer to dine outside. Devastated, I returned to my room. Changed into the night suit. Nevertheless, on his call, I went to the cabinet, I took out a glass To pour some wine For the man with whom I share my life But who utterly fails to be my Valentine...
Picture design by Anumita Roy
