A Whiskey Nursery Poem by Debanjan Dhar

A little bit of whiskey does make things a little better. That is why a man must make some money. Then he can work all day and come back home and drink his whiskey before anything goes wrong in the head. The heart can take care of itself. It is the mind that keeps the heart in its bad company. I had you in my mind when I was lighting up that cigarette. Something reminded me of the way you lit your cigarette, the first one I had ever seen you light. You had an unusual way of striking the matchstick to the box. You would not shield the flame and you would quietly express your displeasure if the flame died before your cigarette was lit. It also brought back how you nodded your head affirmatively to something you had spoken to yourself once the cigarette was lit. Just as you do after you have stirred the sugar in the coffee and tasted a spoonful of it. It was all in the mind but the heart, the poor, bullied brother of the mind had to face the brunt. But hey, a little whiskey did make things a little better.