Skip to main content

The Tea Cup

H.Sanbika is medically oriented by degree though she's not practicing it currently, Her passion on scribbling thoughts dragged her here.

“She awaits the rain like a writer embraces metaphors,

A drizzle isn't for the child who dances in the storm.

Of rain that washes away the petrichor it brings,

A downpour of a hail of bullets, and she calls it spring.”

― Sanhita Baruah, The Farewell and other poems


The Tea Cup

You walked down the stairs

Flowers in hand and dressed to your best

You look inspired with those dazzling eyes

I was your maid

Serving your guest

She sits in the lawn

Waiting for you

As I came near

The tea was spilled

Broken pieces lay on the floor

I was deeply cut

By the view I saw

You held her hand

And slipped the band

I picked the pieces so mindlessly

Drops of blood paints the floor

You saw and asked,

"Are you alright?"

I smiled and nod

But as I turned back

Drops of tears fell down my eyes

© 2017 Himeko Sanbika