“through the act of living, the discovery of oneself is made concurrently with the discovery of the world around us. . ."

Monday, December 20, 2010

Holiday Chores


Sunday- the day when you can be

Yourself- and not let be ruled –

A day to do what you wish to do

And not what others want you to do.


Sunday – the day one could read

Even the most insignificant ad

A day you need brush your teeth

Only when you want to eat.


I have a little duster, of soft

Synthetic bristles – to dust

The books, tables or the shelves

And an old torn shirt to swipe them clean.


There’s something about cleaning,

Dusting, tidying up and swiping.

A fleck of dust, a blotch of stain,

A crack that weren’t there before.


Today, I took on the showcase shelves

Souvenirs, scattered, of a life gone by.

A fan from China that my uncle brought

A medal my father earned for service with merit.

Glass flower vases, my mom’s valued prizes

Headless dolls my sister and I played with.

A bowl my granny used to fill with fruit,

Statuettes of dogs and such other stuff.


I clean them, dust them and keep them back,

Wondering what value they have.

What would they mean to my wife or son,

These worthless pieces, when I am gone.


In the stillness of days and nights

When I am gone, the winds would blow.

Specks of dust would settle and stain

White dustsheets would shroud my life.


Forlorn, forgotten, fritted away

My life, like a photo fading away

Where colours give way to meaningless grey.

Then one day-

Torn or crushed and swept away.

**************** Kottayam 27-12-2004

(Unpublished poem, now unearthed)

9 comments:

  1. Okay.. so that was why you started giving away things. So that you can be yourself atleast on Sundays.

    6 years gone by and I guess your posessions halved and memories doubled.

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  2. The inevitable with regard to all and one of us.

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  3. Thats such a sweet poem. I go with you on the priceless possessions...

    Your lines were so vivid, I could visualize :)

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  4. Its very nice expecting more such poems

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  5. Balan, there is often this 'after you'thoughts in you.Everything will be the same,the Secretariat,the Over bridge, VJT hall,your medals and cherished books,all will stay.Only us will be replaced.
    I loved the thoughts.

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  6. @Doc: After me? The floods, of course! ;D

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  7. @Sreejith: Dispossessing began when the realisation of the futility of possessing dawned. Yes, the process might have begun 6 years ago...

    @Jayaraj: Thanks!

    @Anil: No, I am gonna live forever!

    @Insignia: Thanks. Look closely. You are seeing yourself in the bits and pieces; hence the value, isn't it? take yourself out of it - what remains? Nothing. Whether art d'objects or relationships. Do read my poem, 'Nada'. I consider it as a really profound insight into this issue.

    @ Aswathy: Thanks!

    @Doc: And Coffee House and YWCA and ... :)

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