Deja Vu

After two years,

I’m back.

Back at the hospital.


They’ve shifted to SSB now,

but really

nothing’s changed.


The infusion pump still hovers,

making that same sound:

pi pa po,

pi pa po.


Someone’s checking their weight

on the new digital machine.


Blood transfusion happening on one side,

chemotherapy on the other.


A separate room

for bone marrow.

A washroom for seat baths.


It’s the same.

I can still smell

Marro, Targo, Pulfurgen

I know the chemo drug names

by heart.


Mine was arsenic trioxide

with ATRA.


“Hope you brought your file,”

“Did you do CBC?”

the sister-in-charge asks.


I just nod,

trying to cover myself

before walking in

back into the hospital cage.


Two months inside.

And more than a hundred chemo rounds

in a year.


I pause.

Check my fever.

Wipe at the dried trace

of a nosebleed.


I try to hide

the scars I had buried.


I already knew

I had relapsed.


Dad was too tired

to be back.

Mom sat at home

with no hope.


I saw traffic in their heads.

I saw rain without even going out.


The doctor came to see me.

She asked,

“How are you feeling?”


I said,

“I’m feeling deja vu.”

But what came out was

“deja hu.”


- Vishwanath



टिप्पण्या

या ब्लॉगवरील लोकप्रिय पोस्ट

मासिक पाळी. ( Periods)

मनातले मला आज सांगायचे होते.

GMC मधील ती.