Never Will She Ever
written by: Rekha Rajgopal
When my sister died on a fine sunny morning,
I realized that she would no longer scream instead of talk,
Never laugh without reason at the end of a sentence.
She would never hound me with a dozen calls and pull me up for not answering,
Never talk nineteen to the dozen, not taking in a word of mine.
She would never want a dozen more saris to add to her clutter,
Never revert to her stubborn thinking after my hour-long lecture on its perils.
She would never hide from me her illness and talk about all things trivial,
Never skip a lecture from me on the importance of health and diet.
She would never know how painful it is to not hear from her,
Never know it will go away once someone says about me that I will never.
I am an Instructional Designer who designs and develops training content. I love my work but feel sorry it adds to the task lists of already overworked executives. I seek to atone by writing creative, non-mandatory content.
Latest posts by Rekha Rajgopal (see all)
- Never Will She Ever - September 1, 2025
- Over The Moon - May 14, 2021
