To The One Not To Be Proposed Poem by Basu Maan

Surely you hate
can't love
your room,
this suburb,
this scent,
these flowers,
getting dirty
under showers!

Surely you hate
Anyone,
any Greek,
any Roman,
any English,
any Indian,
who drops in
to bed with,
then leaves, gasping
for that dream
that brought here
a girl long ago
to suffer severe.
Took the plunge
or had to take;
either lost way
or ‘tis fate.

But this glow
is sure to die,
someday beauty
is bound to fly
to some new born
destined to walk
on other way, or
on this same path.
Then no Asian,
no African,
no American
no European,
shall ever enter
this room
forget you
to doom.

This loafer,
who could never
buy some time
cherished ever,
shall keep knocking
at the door –
proposing, persuading… (2008)