Poems by Dr. Santosh Bakaya
YOU SPOKE NOT A WORD
You spoke not a word.
You let your eyes do the talking.
[Ah, how they talked, locked with mine].
You sang no melody, but the notes
of the low and treble of your heart,
I could hear that day.
So clearly. So poignantly.
Did the boatman hear them too?
Why did he stop rowing his boat
and watched furtively as you flicked
a dust mote from my face?
The night discreetly covered itself
by a throbbing, pulsating darkness.
And you kept mum, letting your eyes do the talking.
[How they talked, locked with mine]
AS I WATCHED
It felt as though clouds were swearing and cursing
clearing their throats, last night.
Guffawing in sonorous might
monsters crouched, swaying as though drunk, last night.
Then completely exhausted, slumped on a tree trunk
turning in, like me, last night.
I got up groggily in the wee hours.
From the patio of my snug cottage I watched
the waves of the river thrashing the rocks
In the Eastern horizon, there was a yawning abyss
Red –hot edges of clouds, disheveled and unkempt
Ah, I beamed , ecstatic , as an unending expanse
slowly unfolded ,pierced with the golden darts of dawn.
Ah, there was a steaming mug of coffee on the table.
The turbulent night just gone, now looked like a mere fable.
Holding on to a piece of rusk
she stood on the road as the traffic light turned red
Clutching her baby brother, colicky.
Looking at a man, as he parked his limousine, brand new .
The overpowering fragrance of musk
wafted across from the car.
“These beggars! They raise my heckles”,
the voice of the man
attired in an expensive suit was brusque.
“ I am not a beggar”, remarked the teen to the man
Flaunting his limousine, brand new.
“Do you think I want your money?” She snorted too.
“I am poor, just as you are rich,” she said, as if on cue.
“I don’t want your money, I was just crossing the road.”
She remarked in one emotional spurt, to the man curt.
And in four quick strides crossed the road to her shack
behind a cluster of sprawling mansions.
The traffic had started crawling,
the topsy- turvy world moved on.
The lordly man in the limousine, brand new
gaped at her back, defrauded.