Leg – toe – nail is hard to be cut
I keep forgetting after bath when it is tender:
My eyes are heavy with sleep
But I am hearing i-pod, and watching tv:
Movie I ‘m watching has no name
Hindi I’m listening to, I don’t follow
Life is strange that I don’t know
What I want, where I am going.
People seem to be happy, as long as they
Have something to do; it may be play cards,
Or see a movie, or get close to another woman,
Or go Delhi for a meeting in which
He doesn’t open his mouth
But he collects sitting fees, and air-fare.
Next door, somebody, a driver works hard
From 6 a m to 12 midnight every day,
And yet doesn’t get Rs 200 per day
Out of which the constable takes 50!
Everything I do loses its essence
No sooner I do, read, see, hear, eat or wear
It has lost its desirability, or meaning,
I am at a loss to know why I wanted it.
I lose interest so fast, it is no joke
As they say. Even the most intimate things
Which are supposed to bond for life
Appear so flat, dull, ordinary, not wanted.
The moment I move away from having done it,
There is nothing of permanent interest
Including in yoga, detachment, and meditation.
There are no exceptions. Period.
Moment I come out of meditation,
I have the same feeling after eating sweets,
It is over. It doesn’t mean anything.
What is it now? What can I do?
Eat, read, drink, sleep, lie down? No.
Nothing would satisfy me now.
So, I want to die like T S Eliot’s Sybil
In the cage at the beginning of The Waste Land.
But then, I also know that it is absurd
To seek Death, which will come anyway.
For, life is precious, and having got a chance
To savor it, no point in avoiding it, or cribbing.
So, I turn back to live my life
With cheerfulness, hoping it will turn
To joy soon, and often.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem