Tag Archives: poem

The dim light of my solitary hours


Often I see myself through my mirror

And reflect upon the image etched there.

 

I see strands of hair fluttering here and there

Evading my grasp, gliding in the air

 

Years, months and weeks have passed by,

And I see myself frozen in a stand by

 

The days have gone followed by their nights

And now finally I sit to record the accounts of my plight.

 

I am twenty-nine now, I was nineteen once.

I fled from home then; I eloped with a dunce.

 

I fled from home to rescue myself from being sold.

I wanted to live with my young lover and grow old.

 

I was up for sale so that my dad could pay his debts

I was up for sale so that my siblings could be fed.

 

It would have been a noble sacrifice

But to me that lone reason did not suffice.

 

I left my home. I came to the city.

We struggled here for nitty-gritty.

 

And then one day he left me when in the streets the light was dim

for we could not decide who sacrificed more- either I or him.

 

I slept on the floor with unpaid bills

while the hunger in my belly grew shrill.

 

Neither a word nor a penny was sent

I missed him not but cursed him for not paying the rent.

 

Survival was a challenge and options were few

Where I was to go- go back or start anew?

 

It was a decision to sell my flesh and kill my soul

Or a decision to sell my skill and choose a role.

 

I chose to play a teacher, a tutor to kids

I chose to be with innocents to satisfy my needs.

 

I taught them and I taught myself

I learnt to survive, to live for oneself.

 

I studied from books, I studied men

I learnt from my work, I learnt from all of them.

 

 

I saw people stand to greet me, I smelt those carpets rolled down for me,

I felt those tears which alone witnessed my moments of success for me.

 

I filled my vacant hours so that the lost days could not haunt

But in the dim light of my solitary hours my sorrows still did flaunt.

 

I changed occupation and my profession

But nothing could satisfy till I had made my confession.

 

The days thus went by followed by their nights

And now finally I sit to record the accounts of my plight.

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For all that it is…


For the world that knows you,not me.

For the way you feel,one may not see.

But that what connects you and me is just not ‘we’.

There is something that flows between just you and just me.

I think of you and you pass through me,

the way you caress me, that’s serene.

A moment’s touch,

that is my bliss, and

your presence never amiss.

For all that I care,

it’s you who makes me aware.

For all that you are to me

everything is no less than a dream.

But the distance that meets us apart

that is what it is

that is what it is…