Slip With Foot. Poem by Nabakishore Dash

My affectionate wife stumbled,
fell down like a felled tree
on the concrete floor
of the garage.
Hit hard her scalp
above the right eye brow,
bled heavily through her nose.
Thanks God she
did not become unconscious.

My physician friends advised me
to take her to the nearest hospital
as soon as I can.
Doctors in emergency ward
directed me to go for
CT scan of her brain
and referred us to a
neurosurgeon.

A very cool minded,
humorous and witty doctor
was sitting on a revolving chair.
He commented that God
saved both of you
from a great disaster.

Nothing has gone wrong
inside your brain.
Prescribed some medicines
for five days,
told us to report on
fifth day with another CT scan.

Now she is fine physically
with some violet spots
in her right part of
fairy face.
She has some anxiety
about it as she looks
much more frequently
in mirror with
a feeling of disgrace.
I tried to cajole her,
your beauty is intact
in your heart despite the
violet marks,
beauty you see in mirror
is skin deep, transient and
supposed to fade.

I asked the doctor about the spots
who assured that
those would vanish
in some days more.
I cracked jokes, gently teased
and motivated her,
that you slipped with foot,
far better than slipping
with tongue,
to maintain relationship as ever.
She replied that there is
nothing like slip of tongue,
only what goes on in one's mind,
love, anger, right, wrong,
is revealed in language.