Dearest partner in good times and bad,
I am a little listless again,
confused but without cause for confusion,
saddened by carrying others’ energies,
brightened too, by others doing:
Nothing seems to be my own, but this long wait.
Inside my head,
Voices crackle livelier than the chatter of bridesmaids
Images swirl like a lucid dreaming experience,
In a scattered confetti of colours.
Troubled by thoughts that aren’t mine
But through immersion, have become part of my flesh,
The ennui of this evening holds me prisoner ---
The stone(?) walls of which are marked by conversations
Shared under the shade of a eastern sun,
Lending vitality in a land of conflicting histories,
Furnishing tongues to the interlocutor,
And colonial anthropologist.
We were twice removed those days,
and today?
You held me then, at low tide,
You spoke so gently,
I learnt my first lesson in lip reading,
And as the dusk grew long shadows,
The soot on our lamps became blacker,
You formed a song with your lips,
And played stories by the ear.
That was a long evening,
As we waited for the dawn,
for news of the beloveds
I and you, waited together,
In such a long evening.
But I wasn’t lone,
Fear was on the subconscious,
But we sang some more songs,
Smoked a little of your nice green hemp
Remembered the ones who had waited before us,
Knowing their beloveds might never return,
From that war,
That stealthily rages,
Behind our ponds and yards.
And today,
Where does it place us,
You and me,
Who are so lost in the market-place
Of globalization?
I am a little listless again,
confused but without cause for confusion,
saddened by carrying others’ energies,
brightened too, by others doing:
Nothing seems to be my own, but this long wait.
Inside my head,
Voices crackle livelier than the chatter of bridesmaids
Images swirl like a lucid dreaming experience,
In a scattered confetti of colours.
Troubled by thoughts that aren’t mine
But through immersion, have become part of my flesh,
The ennui of this evening holds me prisoner ---
The stone(?) walls of which are marked by conversations
Shared under the shade of a eastern sun,
Lending vitality in a land of conflicting histories,
Furnishing tongues to the interlocutor,
And colonial anthropologist.
We were twice removed those days,
and today?
You held me then, at low tide,
You spoke so gently,
I learnt my first lesson in lip reading,
And as the dusk grew long shadows,
The soot on our lamps became blacker,
You formed a song with your lips,
And played stories by the ear.
That was a long evening,
As we waited for the dawn,
for news of the beloveds
I and you, waited together,
In such a long evening.
But I wasn’t lone,
Fear was on the subconscious,
But we sang some more songs,
Smoked a little of your nice green hemp
Remembered the ones who had waited before us,
Knowing their beloveds might never return,
From that war,
That stealthily rages,
Behind our ponds and yards.
And today,
Where does it place us,
You and me,
Who are so lost in the market-place
Of globalization?
