Bird died at the edge of NH-22 on a national holiday | Diya Kandhari

The following poem by Diya Kandhari from New Delhi was selected as a commendable mention in Wingword Poetry Prize 2020

and grief fluttered into an inconvenience,

a sliced open pigeon wing, bruised mantle, crushed beak

against asphalt; the vertebrate sticks out like flawed timing.

The neighbour's children have paint on their faces; an unfinished celebration

They complain about the vacuum cleaner that fell into disuse after the last death

about how the house is still filthy, humidity clinging onto shelves like an omen

Mother says today wasn’t the right day for death

You see grandfather has lost his driving license

which means mother has to drive him to and from the the highway.

Bird died at the edge of NH-22 on a national holiday.

Bird died on a highway no one drives upon because of the drunk civil engineer in 1940s

Bird died and here we are, and mother says bird should’ve died another day

Stacked up deaths are easier. 

The distinctness of death is what makes it painful, it’s peculiarity, of location and cause

Aunty died on a hospital bed from heart disease, uncle drowned in a lake,

 

Mother says bird should’ve died tomorrow

But tomorrow is Mimi’s ballet recital, and day after is national cookie cutter day

And the day after the day after, is significant because it’s day after

Bird died on NH-22 on a national holiday and grief fluttered into an inconvenience, because it was always meant to.