One day I will run away with a dove or a grasshopper-
One day I will run away with a dowel or a grasshopper.
The mind is thus fixed.
The mind turns green at the thought of this scene,
As often as this scene seems to be in my book pocket,
As often as Shanti comes and sees time.
You’re on my hit list, mumbles.
You entered my list of fascination.
Now only since 1979 walk straight, turning right
I will stand on the bank of Magra.
A twilight in a red sari waits there,
There the trembling bridge is ringing the bell according to the rules –
And the woodpeckers are whistling through the gaps in the leaves
Anjuman School.
I’ll be right-
There will be a dowel or grasshopper
Or 1979 or Magra Par or Shaking Bridge
I will take these with me.
One day I will run away with the white dawn like a rice sprout-
One day I will run away with a soft dawn like a rice paddy.
As soon as I thought of running away, I remembered Nayantara, a field worker
I remember the dewy sharsheflower, I remember the kindling of the fire,
I remember two unfamiliar eyes, running after football in the afternoon
I remember how many scenes are remembered like this. And if you remember
In the chest floats like a leaf, pairs of days, days full of throat.
One day I will run away along a path as long as my father’s hand,
One day I will run away with a path as long as my father’s hand.
Can’t find anywhere else. The dew will fall overnight and it will be morning.
In the evening tea stalls will accumulate and spread around like soap bubbles,
The mother for the son, the siblings for the brother will be waiting together.
I’ll get lost somewhere wrapped around the crooked clothes like the sails of a boat
Where is he – you will not even think.
Only paddy field, green head will shake in the wind and say-
He is nowhere, nowhere.
