Tell her I am dead

You say she’s at the door,
When the night is growing dark evermore,
When wind so crazy is blowing at this late hour,
What could have brought her, beyond her power?
And she’s all wet, shivering from cold?
Hurry! Give her a towel and some wine old.
Oh! She’s looking for me, asking my health,
Eager, earnest as if for unknown wealth.
She strikes me with fear, no, not her lovely face-
She’s been so lovely, why would she chase.
She nursed me while I lay dying, dressed
My wounds, and with her bosom blessed.
When I fell asleep, she sighed relief,
And having me relieved departed with grief.
Ah! There she knocks again, where would I hide?
That lovely voice calling- where to hide!
Tell her I am gone, but have her bade.
What! She comes near- tell her I am dead.
-April’00, Calcutta-700063

Wedding bells

Hurry up, or we will be late!
And God forbid! Today’s such a lovely date.
There, you hear the bells, there far away,
And yet so near, and the wind is so gay.
Now who’s at the coppice gate! Who’s there mate?
There, she sends for me and I must not be late.
Fetch your coat, and fetch the flowers,
Ah! Where are the roses, drenched in morning showers?
Each one so young, each so red,
Each reddening when my heart so bled!
And they are so cool, so moist with tears,
Yet I must carry them with three cheers.
And she must be waiting now, just for me,
And, when I come she would fill with glee.
Must I go? But I must go, and bless her today,
Keeping the words in chest, the heart I must flay!
Oh! The last moments draw near, you know;
Crossing the threshold now, leaving all hopes below.
-28/4/00,Calcutta-700063

She calls for me

The rites are done, friend, the hopes are gone,
With a stranger today, she has become one.
Far away he was, unknown, uncared, unloved,
And you know how much I was loved.
And now the happy, blushing bride would be kissed;
A moment from now how much she will be missed!
What then! If she goes, leaving her world behind,
What would she do with the memories in mind?
But look! She’s calling, waving at me,
How to tell her how far is she?
Should I go then, and bring her untold woes,
But no, how can I vex the bride a minute before she goes?
Yet how to live this mountain of a life,
When she’s leaving me, now someone else’s wife?
See, she’s still looking at me, I wonder what’s left unsaid-
Perhaps she will let bare the heart of a maid-
But maid she’s no more- does she want to wish me good?
Oh! What she knows! Let me hide my tears in the hood!
-1/5/00, Calcutta-700063

Parting moment

Feel my heart, see how hard it beats!
How much can one take, how many defeats?
Well, see, here I was, a little before,
When, with her eyes, she called me behind the door;
Guests, decking her with wishes and gifts,
Little by little, from them she shifts.
‘Well dear’, she says, ‘so I am married.
‘Bless me, for far must I be carried.
‘My heart is so glad, all are so happy for me.
‘And I see you beaming, so much gladder than me-
‘But it pains me dear, aren’t you sad
‘That I shall leave you- Oh! I must be mad!
‘But no! Let me say for one last time,
‘My love for you, in broken rhyme-
‘Yes, I loved you dear, I loved you much-
‘But, you see, it won’t come to such.
‘I grieve, and yet I am glad! So now I go.
‘Kiss my cheek, say you love me…but I know.’
-15/5/00, Calcutta-700063

COMMENTS :

This is a series of poems, the first written by me. All the poems concerns a single theme and story which goes something like this:

"A young man is friends with a lovely woman. He is secretly in love with the woman but does not confess for fear of rejection. He argues that he is better off being near his beloved without confession, and the risk of a confession is too great. But all the same he fears any unwanted intimacy now that the dead end seems to have come for the young man. So he hides from her. The woman is surprised and dejected, and decides to marry someone else. After the marriage she calls him and asks why did he not ask her to marry him, because she herself was in love with him! The whole world collapses at this cruel joke of destiny."

There was a conscious effort to develop the poems in the form of dramatic monologues, impressed with the work of Browning. The silent listener, in this instance, is a close friend of the young lover who shares each and every thought of his, and he is the lone witness to this tragedy, apart from the lovers. The story evolved through the course of the poem and it was not a planned effort. Now that the poems have been composed, one can detect resemblance with a poem by Browning- ‘The Statue and the Bust’. I cannot, however, acknowledge the influence because these poems were composed just a few days before I was to read the much better poem by the Victorian genius.

(In that poem there’s a woman and a man who see each other and fall in love, just before she was to get married. They could have eloped but they weren’t very steadfast as one excuse came after another to spoil their desire. The husband came to know about the affair and locked the woman in a castle. Years passed. They couldn’t meet. So the woman makes a bust of herself and placed it where her lover could see it, and the man built a statue and placed it where the woman could see it. Thus they consummated their love. They were so lazy that they couldn’t find an occasion to flee when their youth and love beckoned them.)

Like in Browning’s poem the lovers in these poems are guilty of the same fault. Love suits the brave, and bravery is fortitude in the face of bullets and rejection. You never know when you miss the chance. Like the Romans use to say- Carpe Diem, i.e. seize the day, and the moment. It may never come back!