Immobile Poem by Basu Maan

A brawny hunk
stands in the house
still, unmoved,
espies all inmates.

Little ones
gather at his feet
play or imitate
the game of life.
Grow in size
their tiny utensils –
as grow their hair,
their parts, their limbs.

They sit at his feet
whisper their secrets
while he, unmoved
overhead, listens.
Eldest one
shares about her man,
how he loved.
Next one declares
how a lover
approached, proposed.
Youngest one
Listens
As does he, overhead.

Eldest gone
with her man,
next wedded too
while youngest
all alone – vacancy,
loneliness boo.
She looks down
alone she weeps,
hides her tears
behind her knees.
Knows not overhead
He weeps too –
compassion he has
for her so true!

Long tresses flowing,
slender body glowing,
in the moonlight,
make her so adorable
lovable, kissable,
embracing tight.

With pink eyes
flooded with tears
she weeps
while he above,
curses his leafy hands,
can love – can’t move. (2008)