Naaranga Muttaayi

I come from a home
That does not believe in remembrances,
And you,
From one that breathes reminiscences.

You barged into my life at a time
When I had started to think on paper;
Sprouted in me, like a moonlit dream
Of love on Manasarovar...
Sprinkling into me epiphanies of transcendence.

You took me by hand into your past,
In to a fairytale that tempted me to forget mine,
As they were attempting to transfigure my life
Into a confused whirlpool of sleazy death;
When pedagogies were urging not to speak
Unless it was a revelation,
Or blasphemy;
When I feared my sight drifting away
As voices spoke of seas as symbols,
Struggling among worlds of blindness and vision,
So that one would not clash with the other.

You arrived,
To be the insane luxury of my reason.
Thankyou, for not taking away my childhood,
And those short vacations I took into silence.