NPM23_Postcard_VERMA

Tham Luang Cave Rescue Pujita Verma moments my fingers hover over your unopened messages, things I want to tell you become my monsoon. I finally saw the film. you know the one about the trapped soccer team & the world that swarmed to the cave to pull honey from the heart’s wound? that one. true story. I was making tea when divers first discovered the bodies. I mean, the boys (they were found alive) & I was licking gold syrup off my fingers. been years since the divers brought them back (alive, yes, but conscious? not exactly) & I can’t stop thinking about the boys sticking to higher ground & they kept climbing further & you told me how long it took, for the fields to finally forgive the farmers, for letting them flood. (I wonder if you know I’ve been treading water. you are in growing season). families were camped in the mouth of the hive & others split. dared to step into the stomach. you tell me years ago your father followed the allegory, as divers pressed between two walls & found footing to climb further. I think necessity paves the way for all the strength someone could ever have. there’s so much I want to tell you, & nothing that I need to. searching for you might just cave inside of me. everything always ends with the body.