You could hear the water fill the bucket and overflow
for the better part of an hour
before Kaka emerged,
a Rajapuri pancha wrapped around his waist
gold wedding ring burnished yellow,
wrapped even tighter around a water-retaining finger.
“Did you get soap in your eyes again?” I would ask him.
He would find something to look at outside the window.
At ten, I didn’t know
soap and loss had the same function.