Dear Doctor Marwaha

by Mark Chmiel

Back then we did shots
Of Liquid Cocaine

Feasted on the dishes
At Little Saigon Café

Talked about Red Warren’s
All the King’s Men

You gave me an authentic
George W. Bush doll

And a silver name bracelet
Which Erin later noticed

With a raised eyebrow, saying
“That must have cost $250!”

I of course was clueless
About such things

What I wasn’t clueless about
Was your way with words

I will never forget that night at Cartel
Your face like a thousand suns

(That’s a Bhagavad Gita allusion
In case you missed it, srimatiji)

Or when you called me  from Italy
On your post-graduation Euro tour

I called you from Gaza
The shots from the sniper tower loud and clear

Now ten years later
You’re a practicing doctor of medicine

Happiness occupies your face
Vishal  occupies your heart

Like Tupac said
“Somethings never change”

So Doc hear this:
On the weekends

When you have an hour here
Or even twenty minutes there

Open up your laptop because
The world is waiting

For you to wow us
With your way with words

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