Photography – Neil Chowdhury,  Poem – Bishnupriya Chowdhuri

Between you, me and our hatred for each other,
Between subways, sleepy days and sandy words,
dreamt-of gazes and words untouched,
an ocean came.
Alone with our vessels, petite
and shadows perched close under the feet
We spent an year drowning.

Those who saw it coming and those who did not
All queued up outside the supermarkets.
Those who bought the last batch of vinaigrette, the final harvest of persimmons, the remaining stock of canned tuna in water and olive oil and of course, the tissues
those who missed the deal on corn-flakes, umbrellas and tulip bulbs,

those that loved to return home,
those that longed to leave.
Those who fell prey,
And those who survived
all wore masks and
accepted the rule of water. corn-flakes, umbrellas and tulip bulbs,

Geologists told us but we never
believed it to be true
Until schools were closed, parks, forbidden
and just like that months passed by
Without having friends overs to bite on an evening together.
Without crumbling into strangers, under Sunday sun.
Geologists told us but we never
believed that mountains could grow
beneath our feet, until it did.

For your safety and mine
let snow have it all.
For your safety and mine
You run your roots down
I roll my wheels away
Let snow have it all.