Friday, September 3, 2010

A movie without father

I still cannot believe
You left midway
Like an indifferent viewer
Wanting a smoke,
Not minding the film.
You cannot be blamed
If the director
Did not find any more uses
For you in the plot.
Envious death doesn't wait for a dream
To be fulfilled
But like Krishna the dream survives Kamsa's hunt.
Here I am speaking to you
As if you are still around.
The movie, in a way yours
Is like everyone says
Something from the heart
For those who have been through a lot
And come through
Or still taking the blows well
A hope-tinted glimpse of their lives
Stories, you kept telling me,
I should someday tell them;
Real fights the small man waged
With the demons life threw at him
Not stunts that graphics dreamed up;
And how beautiful death could be
When such a man goes down fighting;
I celebrated such a hero
Who doesn't know he is one;
This house where we spent endless nights
Dreaming of making such movies
Is now ours,
But without your deathless smile
To light it up.

3 comments:

Balachandran V said...

That was a touching tribute, Prabhakar!

When time permits, do look up my poem, 'Spaces that are empty of you', October 2009

P. Venugopal said...

About your father?

Prabhakar said...

Balan, Thanks. I am going through your archives. You write really well. I am yet to read your poems fully, shall respond as soon as I'm done.

Venu, I put myself in a young director's shoes. There is a whole crop of them bringing to screen the changing rural landscape of Tamil Nadu. I recently saw Rithu (Seasons) and was struck by the scene where the fisherman talks of the tree that doesn't forget its past. In a way all my poems are a tribute to my father.