I. Flicker

A bulb flickers /
a tired eye closing /
and then / nothing.
The walls whisper.
And silence comes next /
not of peace / no /
but of ten people holding breath.
At the edge of a day unravelling /
darkness soaks our fatigue.
We look at each other /
a strange assembly /
struck / by misfortune or luck?
Huddled in a remote valley.
Lightning lashes the roof of the shed.
The children crawl from their beds /
not in fear /
but in intrigue /
as if the night itself
has opened its mouth to speak.

II. Scramble

A blanket confessional /
What do we do?
No one prepares
for darkness this high up.
We gather like moths
to the last warmth /
each other.
A laugh cracks the air / brittle / brave.
And there’s a knock on the cupboard /
“I heard there’s light in there?”
No firewood beneath the table.
No signal in the air –
Only hope cloaked in a whisper:
“There’s a market down by the river.”
My mother wraps me tighter,
Feet shuffle, horses stir,
And so we ride /
on horseback /
hooves drumming old mountain rhythms
into roads that vanish under their tracks.
The market sleeps in silence.
A shopkeeper lights a candle /
his hand trembling /
a man who’s seen the darkest nights
learned to carry a human light.
We leave with eggs /
with bread /
with Maggi /
to survive the night /
and a quiet / shared belief.

III. Temple

Back in the wooden house / of course
we build a temple of flame
around a single boiling pot.
Steam clouds the windows /
the world beyond my glasses disappears.
I breathe against my father’s chest /
humming a silent prayer /
as if warmth was never heat /
but the hush of his arms around me.
The tension thaws.
We eat /
a first meal
on the other side of fear.
Laughter melts down our backs
like wax.
Time stretches /
wide /
not infinite /
a moment coloured with joy /
and company /
and a life
that does not demand light.

IV. Now

I live with heat at my fingertips.
Water runs hot.
The lights never stutter.
I sleep through the night.
Yet / I often yearn for a village /
cold / and full of life.
And I’ve learned:
comfort is empty; warmth is borne.
To be surrounded by love
is the only way
to feel alive.

– Sanya Joneja