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| Simla: A Long Poem - X | |||||||
| silence too is a canvas | |||||||
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| © 2002 Samartha Vashishtha | |||||||
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psalms keep ringing in the valley / we climb up the stairs to hell / treetops glinting green are too high to offer shelter / clouds hold pitifully their empty bladders / the land has conceived from their night discharge / scattered pieces of silence catch us unawares / time dangles at the edges of mechanics / aloud from the valley the river calls / at coffee house poets brood over their ruined harvest of poems / discuss why this year it snowed so late / the sky breaks into luminous orange streaks / night falls quietly like fresh snowflakes umbra grandfather sits on the edge of sleep / lingering bits of day dig into his heart / with all the strength he can gather he shakes me up / wake up he says theres a windmill around here / leme sleep i yell only god / could afford cutting the jungle to set up one / why dont you put on your hearing aid / god needs not a windmill at this lonely place at the breakfast table he looks straight in my face / eighty years are enough to tell reality from space / youll understand it all when you are my age his face seems like a giant banyan to me eighty wrinkles in all he has on his skin penumbra tempting posters clutter the city walls / veeru and i bunk out to see tamil tits / they are shooting for a new film on the ridge* these days / tents and sets everywhere we cant identify the place / the crewmen wont let us pass / we take the longer route round the mass how easy it is to
be a filmstar and the most taxing
of all to be students no! his eyes widen in surprise leave it aside
(First published
in The Journal of the Poetry Society (India), Vol. 12, No. 1, Summer 2001)
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