PENSIVE ME

Published in Mahishamardini vol 11 year 2009 (Annual magazine published by Gauhati University Campus Puja Committee)
I
The poignant spectacle producing much,
No... Not much of a difference to you
Not too far yet not too close you wander,
Drift away from the answer: the life,
The universal, the particular.
You imagine, you know, but still fall prey;
Your power of eloquence lies in wait.
But, why just you? am i not equally culpable?
While long queues of questions are hurled our way,
We refuse: to even bother about
Her: she searches for an aid she deserves...
That panacea... that balance...
Eureka!!! Not I.
Have you? We have to. This is not the way
She wants to die. An ignoble death.
Now she hangs by the hair.
Now, have you killed her?
We: a generation of Hollow Men;
We are not indifferent: we are conscious.

II
She Gave you the fields: you built the cities:
She gave you haven, you said you have better;
Creating Caesars ceaselessly...
And those stations of varieties.
As you created this deplorably fake evolution...
Which gives us nothing (while you expected everything)
Nothing, save incessant loneliness.
What did we gain by losing her?
'She never did betray'
Then did you even start it? This
Annihilation, gulping us gradually?
What more did your insatiable greed want?

III
Now as we try to get closer, she moves away.
Because that is not the kind of proximity she wants.
She ants to remain a known mystery.
Why didn't you understand that?
Why don't we appreciate this?
So appeals a few who cares. Why not listen?
It is never too late;
Dum vivimus, vivimas.