Tuesday, April 30, 2013

You Are not Alone

In your silence I could hear
The hissing of a pressure cooker
Shrieking of onions, potatoes and garlic
Sizzling of mustard in the boiling oil
A creative ensemble breaks into pieces
By the clattering of utensils in a hollow wash basin.
Each finger of yours is sliced by a memory
Each strand of hair split by a reasoning
Each pore of your body thrives in rebellion
But in silence you smother them into oblivion
While you walk to the station for a bus
That never comes and takes to you a place
Where nobody resides except hopes and dreams,
Ties of love beckon you back to the slavery of home.
The tip of your saree puffs up in pride as the wind blows
Like a lonely protestor leads a pack of spirits
Along a street that burns in asphalt hell
Still you walk into the scenes painted by clouds
When you sit alone tired and harassed
By work, time, thoughts and the utter loneliness
In the corner of a metro coach
Between your eyelids and dreams
There flutters the wings of a butterfly
That could explode a volcano of change
But you don’t wish to explode
You scramble through your vanity bag
Find out your comb, clips and tickets
With trained movements you tie up your hair
Like a dancer does her choreographed moves
You come back to a world where you don’t belong
Into the deafening noise of disparage and hate
Go back to your desk, to your dishes to the unwashed clothes
And finally to the starched and ironed hopes of tomorrow.
Before the fingers of hatred touch you
You surrender to sleep, to the lullabies of night
And in sleep you play with a host of angels
Whom you had left eons back in the middle of a school ground
And one day you would realize
When you do the dishes, listen to the harangues
When you cook, when you cut vegetables
When you stare back at the gazes of idlers
When the burners burn not for cooking
You would realize the time has come to move
And when you come down you would see
That you are not alone
And the volcanoes have erupted all along. 

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