They Talk About Him Poem by Raj Arumugam

Far away, beyond the continent
and the archipelago,
in a tiny island
someone asks, perhaps,
Does anyone know what's happened to him?
Perhaps this is asked at a coffee-shop;
at a hawker's centre or in a meeting room;
perhaps over the phone or during a chance meeting:
Does anyone know what's happened to him?
Perhaps someone whispers this question
at a temple gathering
or during a moment of silence
at some point during a lecture


The soft replies come:

He's gone.

Gone.

They say he's gone overseas.


Oh,
comes the slow response.
I see.
Yes, it's been some time now
since I last saw him...but...
There is a nod; perhaps, several nods;
there is no emotion; no pursuit of the subject,
no query for details
for people come and go,
as they say; and, moreover, he was exactly like that.
Emotionless; and not asking for details.
Unknown. Unknowing.



What's happened to him?
Gone; he's gone.
It's mouthed in a
low voice;
like talking about the dead.


Far away here, I,
the him, sit writing this.
The him they might sometimes talk about.
Before it is all gone without a trace.




(from The Migrant - notes of a newcomer (February 1997- July 1998))