October 31, 2016
By Anandamayee Singh
Why did Tinkerbell need others to clap to keep her magic alive?
Did the desperate stinging of grim palms make her more believable?
Was it the same grimness that coated Santa’s clothes in a layer of soot?
When did he get stuck in the 4X4. X4. X4 exposed brick of chimneys?
Did the heat of a lal mirch so brightly unfamiliar choke their insides?
Is that why the porcelain tooth fairy fled, her wings chipped lacquer?
And why papa began leaving fistfuls of empty promises on her frame to find in the morning?
Is that when she stopped wearing glass slippers for Charming to find?
Or was it the realization that she didn’t need a love that only wanted her splintered, sharp like glass?
They told her none of these stories had ever been hers.
Shall we clap now?