The ground beneath the feet shakes
Windowpanes swing with dooming creaks
And where I live soon turns into a dancing house
Before I connect any of these episodes of a rallying terror!
Is it the life we love? Is it the death we fear?
Sorry, it’s not the time to contemplate;
But I see my dear ones run even when I am here
Lovers, friends, parents and everyone who can
They run and jump, and stroll and creep
To make a sense of their being
Through the last long breath they inhale.
I am stranded here in the crumbles of the razed house
I’m no more a lover or a friend, but a sufferer.
Sanity is a word of mockery—
Vanity is not yet thought of—
It doesn't matter if I want to go to them
Or if they want to come to me in a new incarnation
With a rescue plan, with cheer groups around,
And the flashes and the annoying selfie-shutters.
Thanks God, I got to see the rubble again
Actually more clearer from this distance
Then when I was there on it;
What about these my near ones?
Oh wretched eyes,
They too become more visible from a distance,
I promise, I do not want to believe it!
I know they will ask me again
A silly question though——
‘A bad dream,’ I have already
thought of the answer.
17 May 2015
I am stranded here in the crumbles of the razed house
ReplyDeleteI’m no more a lover or a friend, but a sufferer.
Sanity is a word of mockery—
Vanity is not yet thought of—
I read this stanza as one of my favorites though whole poem portrays ravaged selfie of Nepal.
Thank you Gaurav for your impression on the poem.
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