Last month of the year is heavily pregnant ,

like a virgin womb with Christ

One sheet of calendar flutters

like a dry kerchief on the blank wall

Carrying few crosses for the mornings with

absent milk a simple sign of kempt house

A pair of binoculars from the closing years birth

await to reach the peak and bring earth closer

Another diary arrives like another

Piece of sky seen and framed

or like another bowl of water

to wash my face or like another storey

of a nameless deserted building.

Those who once made thermos

flasks , make diaries like warm eagle nests

Others who construct old age homes

Encourage memoirs

to be read posthumously

They all begin with

Maps for that healthy temptation

of journey to the  earth

All about existing continents

Marked by green jungles , blue rivers

Little triangles for hills .

Nothing left to explore

Every place is  mapped

Kings were over  thrown

Historians have done with wars

Archaelogists find undiscovered

ruins of past glories, they dig

like burrowing mammals

More information

ISD codes in ques , I can always

Call , someone is  home sick abroad

Perhaps that emotion belongs to

Christmas holidays

After all these printed

distractions , come new pages

with unknown events

A smell of fresh weaknesses

Frighteningly clean new

beginnings …

I can only draw one known face

with one more crease ,

one more laugh line

one more fold

To include the unknown you

( Published in Silent Flute  Kendra Sahitya Akademi

Navodaya Publications for Young Indian English writers







7 thoughts on “ANOTHER DIARY

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