Lost Friend Poem by BASAB CHAUDHURI

I love this gentleman,
indeed a nice gentleman.

He has been in a position of power for some time;
it is good for him.

Power is good for the powerful,
and for those who enjoy power.
For others it is a pain, a torment.

Now this gentleman wanted to put me on a Committee.
He said, "You are so good and good and good."
All bogus stuff.

I know my limitations.
I told him,
"Look, gentleman, I am different, very different.
Do not try for me anywhere."

But the gentleman was persistent,
he was adamant.

He asked for my CV.
I sent it.

A year passed by.
I did not hear anything.

Then there was a call from the gentleman again.
He asked for my CV.
I sent it.

Another year passed by.
I did not hear anything.

I do not care about the Committee.
But I do care about the gentleman.

His insistence has been a loss for me.

He could not call me anymore.
He did not call me anymore.

And somewhere in between
those two silences,

I lost a friend.