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Living Like a Gypsy
From Chicago to Mumbai
Srinagar to Chennai,
I had to deal
With extremes:
Icy cold,
To hot and humid.
Biting cold and windy
To hot and sweaty.
Finally I said,
Out of exasperation
To my husband,
My body’s thermostat
Is beginning to protest,
I can’t live like a gypsy
At the risk of sounding bitchy,
Can’t we settle down?
Where the climate
Is temperate and moderate?
I thought, bewildered
He asked, didn’t
You like adventure.
I do, I do,
But in small doses.
Tears threatening to
Pour out of lachrymose glands
I pleaded
Will you please try to understand?
Nodding, he walked away
I have really no say
Every promotion
Means relocation.
But I’ll try,
Please don’t cry.
poem
by
Mamta Agarwal
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