Friday, January 29, 2010

to cut a long story short

I was ready to resign
To the fury of indifference, convinced
That inaction will (at least)
Shelter me from the heart of feral hatred

The immediate aftermath—
I wanted to grow my usual carapace that
Saner days and weeks had worn down
Like water sheets ploughing soft earth
Leave me alone!

But you stood. Rooted.
In the corner of my eye
Refusing to budge: “I’ll be here”

I shrank and withdrew
Indignant and stubborn
Hurt and accusing,
Burning bridges to the island

Oh what hubris, how selfish!
Reading of the balance statement
Actually, it’s quite clear
He’s wrong and you’re wronged. Pronounced.
Advice to you: Don’t you bother looking out.
Tch tch…not worth you

But you stood. Rooted.
In the corner of my eye
Refusing to budge: “I’ll be here”
Even when

Shadows grew long
Night after night
And wildflowers became weeds

What happened then?

While I was doused
By apathy’s anesthetic
You (must have)
Cut open my empty chest
And like a helping to the famished
Left a warm heart inside
For when I woke up that morn
It throbbed

Epilogue: to cut a long story short

A firefly blinking
I relayed my signal to
Where you stood rooted, refusing to budge
Saying “I’m here”

9 comments:

Charl said...

Heartbreaking and lovely.

I'm going to pass on some music to you. 69 love songs by the Magnetic Fields (they're in my top 10). Consider it my due for introducing me to The Postal Service (who're also in my top 10.)

Sucharita said...

Lovely poem Satyajit.

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Psyche said...

Beautiful..

Anonymous said...

Beautiful, moving, heartbreaking...
I love the ending, where the poet finally acknowledges that rooted presence.

That was really great. You know, sometimes you can be there for someone, and yet never be noticed, never acknowledged, until finally you fade into an invisible washed-out inexistence.

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