Guilt

Story By : Sherya Gokhale, 21

There lived a grandma across the street

she herself was messy, how could her home be neat?

Over the years she got alone, weak and frail

she'd call me every Saturday, for some chores and to narrate a tale.

I'd be lying if I said I liked to go,

The chores were boring, and she'd always say "I'm so helpless, I feel low."

I'd say hmm and sometimes just nod

and leave her place soon thinking she's so odd

"Must be the grandma", mom used to say when the phone rang

No, I'm not going today, I always went bang.

This one morning, the phone rings again

I look at mom, mom looks at me — who'd take the pain?

Sure of where is the call from, reluctantly I pick up "grandma killed herself" the unknown voice says, and off falls my hand the teacup .

I think of all her chores I denied, the infinitely repeated tales I ignored

I think of the annoying phonecalls I got from her, all the rants that made me so bored

Have you heard about Mariana Trench, I ask you.

It's the deepest point in the ocean, many of you would know.

But today, in this moment as the floor is caked with dried spilled tea and glass fragments from the broken cup,