When we are already late for the film, ambling
out of the taxi, my father darting to the
elevator, never does not forget to mention that
this high-rising cineplex that flexes its arms
like a concrete eagle, once used to be three
squat single-screens that shared two walls,
the triplets were called Badal, Bijli, Barkha.
Cloud, Light, Wind. As he presses the 6 button,
and it glows a weak gold from within, I cannot
not imagine him in bell bottoms and a striped shirt,
skipping shop for college, skipping college
for a Rajesh Khanna flick. He once told me
about an entire summer, when still in primary school,
constrained with limited stipend, he plotted by
the gates with his visiting cousin to buy a single
ticket. He watched the first half, sneaked out at
intermission, debriefed the plot to his cousin
who then slipped in and played back the end
of the story. I often cannot not see my father
but in halves. He, as in his entrepreneurial self,
knows why sixty-seater theatres must surrender
their piss-scented and paan-stained selves
to become a multi-leveled home of infinite
entertainment. This self is of the world. It has
no time nor stamina for wrestling with what ceased.
This self sees yet unsees the deceased wife.
The other half, not exact, imprecise as the moon is
most of the time, it lounges in the involuntary
outcries of what we choose to remember.
Badal, Bijlee, Barkha. This self taps its foot
to that bilabial sound of b. The half in which
I think I hear him call out: be be be. He pushes
open the door to the film well begun, flitting down
the rows, extending his arm for me to follow
and someone is shining a torch light now, small
and with definite purpose, the light is a moving line,
someone is guiding us to our places in this new dark.

Preeti Vangani grew up in Mumbai, India and is the author of Mother Tongue Apologize (RLFPA Editions, 2019), selected as winner of the RL Poetry Prize. Her work has appeared in Threepenny Review, Gulf Coast, The Margins among other journals, and has been supported by Ucross, Djerassi, Ragdale and California Center for Innovation. An alumni of the program, she teaches at the MFA program at University of San Francisco.

Echo Goff is an artist and musician who lives in Troy, New York. Their artwork examines visual and societal hierarchies established by fragmenting historical imagery. They juxtapose sentimental photos, campy objects, Punk symbolism, and motifs from antiquity, making a space within their work for dialogue about classism, nostalgia, and subcultures. They graduated with their AS in Fine Arts from Hudson Valley Community College and their BFA in Painting and Drawing from State University of New York at New Paltz. They’ve shown their work both in solo and group exhibitions, including at The Samuel Dorsky Museum, D&H Historical landmark, and Below Grand gallery In New York City. They’re on the Exhibitions committee for Collar Works Gallery in Troy NY and a teacher at The Arts Center of the Capital Region.