Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Saying goodbye

Why do you want to travel
At your age, and so far?
Have they returned
Any of your calls?
Have they visited you
When they pass here
On their pilgrimage and back?
Do you think they would like to see you
Their father's brother's son,
When even their father's gone
Though you might have grown up
In the same house, the same place?
It is not what they want
It is what I want!
Do you know how many times
I have seen in my dreams that house,
Those streets, that bakery
The bookshop, the library
The sun rising over the lake
My cousins so happy and loving
Like when we were young,
The soft light over the town
With the mist refusing to lift? ---
It is that time I want to walk by
Saying a formal goodbye,
A ghost back to a haunt
A dog to his deserted home
An old student to his alma mater
A bee to a fallen flower.

2 comments:

P. Venugopal said...

it is as though i speak each line. i thought of my family home, now with my cousins...
as good a poem as the best you have written.

Prabhakar said...

Dear Venu, My father always wanted to run off to Thiruvananthapuram on the least excuse to be with his cousins. I now understand why. When we share our innermost thoughts we are startled to find how alike we are.