Once again, at the gates of another year.
In this endless desert
The New Year sits like a façade,
A prop
On the other side of which
The endless desert continues.
We will go through the rituals
Of living, loving, playing and crying
Bringing and burying lives-
The perfunctory calls and messages
‘Happy New Year’-
We will go on with the play-acting,
Feigning interests new
Bidding farewells to old.
We conjure up illusions of oases
When all around the desert spreads.
Perhaps we have to,
Lest mirages turn into nightmares.
************ Balachandran, Trivandrum 31.12.2008
This poem set me thinking...We plod on in the hope that mirages are oases. We need to do that to keep the nightmares away. Masterly finish the last four lines give to this beautiful poem. Balan, from where do you get such apt pictures to go with your poems?
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