not letting mornings start without sipping warm water/ not letting grief draw tattoos on my elbow/ sitting straight on dining tables trying to figure out how to pronounce mojito/ dribbling tongue amongst englishmen in the flight to new york city/ n in my name stands for negotiation/ for two scoops of ice cream: gluten free/ for three days of tanning under sunlight & posting one picture on instagram with a brown filter/ for a text to appa: hide the waxing cream from mom/ n in my name stands for nebula/ for sighting in the telescopes scheduled in college garden with the boy i haven’t talked to in months/ my eyes are glued to constellations and his glasses/ for questions i leave in my larynx— anxiety wielding & birds chirp within the gut/ for the answers of the same texture as the bark of neem tree in the jungles/ for the accusations maa served with dahi in dinner/ the nine months of nutrition and shelter molded my bones and skin into tin and silver/ both same in appearance but linger as strangers in bazaars/ maa doesn’t believe what she birthed is the same as what she’s housed/ for the pain swimming in your veins with booze & serotonin/ for violence that cuts your innocence and peels it/ n in my name stands for nonchalant/ i chant for forgiveness in streets on mondays & spill all the equations i forgot in the middle of an exam/ on tuesdays the naan seller looks at me with pity lurking in his eyes/ he cannot sell money for hope & he cannot buy hope for money/ on wednesdays i visit him with a rose and a ten rupee note and bring faith packed to my hall/ n in my name stands for nandini/ a daughter & a girl (by definition) etched in blood and incomplete syntax
Nandini is a computer science engineering student studying in New Delhi. She grew up in the palpitating summers and chilly winters of this beautiful capital. She often writes poetry in her notes app on the metro and is intrigued by political systems in fantasy. You can find her at https://nandini.carrd.co/