An Ode to Care

while poet Vishwas has a fetish for the fair
Malayali sisters end night shift cold and bare

but my mother prefers them, even half sedated
she nods, affirming sister is a nurse gold hearted

for endless hours, numbing injections needles pinched
even a second lost spells danger, for she will be lynched

“what beach did you like when you visited my Kerala, miss?”
“Kovalam” mother mumbled conjuring not the memory bliss

nurses from Kerala, Vishwas believe me are brothers too
imbibing silence, soft, men too play a role of care very true

but mother dear after all is skewed North Indian too
shy -mother says – like they are all, your friend Balu