End Of Solitude - Poem by Ajit Das
The digital life: before the morning tea arrives,
switched-on laptop, relentless e-mails,
Facebook, Twitter feeds, status updates,
unstoppable, clutter the tiny screen,
their constant connection suffocating
the presence without the oxygen of absence.
Then commute in the non-verbal world:
rushing to workplace in a crowded bus,
jostling for a seat or a standing space,
getting down at the terminus; meanwhile
the cellphone downloading messages –
as if connectivity never seems to stop.
Office boredom now no longer drudges:
computers arrayed on the desk top
clicking without any pause, eyes drooping,
no time to steal a look through the window
or feel when the mid day sun weakening
into setting glow behind the skyscrapers.
A quiet evening over a drink, an intimate dinner,
a rendezvous with friends of forgotten past –
the desire for momentary seclusion fades
in the surroundings attuned to the glare
of videos distracting with pictures combining
sex, violence, death: the tenor of time.
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