One Day In The Life Of Ivan Gesticulatovich Poem by Subroto Chatterjee

[This poem welcomes comments from readers on its form, style, rhyme, meter, imagery, and anything else which human imagination (and otherwise) permits. As a background, the not-so-faint-hearted readers are recommended to read poems of master poets such as Alexander Pope (“An Essay on Criticism”) , Carl Sandburg (“Bath”) , Allen Ginsberg (“Sphincter”, “Please Master”, “Hospital Window”, and “Death & Fame”) , and Anne Sexton (“Again And Again And Again”, “Love Letter Written in a Burning Building”) . There is no attempt made here for the imitation-is-the-best-form-of-flattery drill (!) . The message here is simple. Exactly].


One Day in The Life of Ivan Gesticulatovich

Ivan Gesticulatovich was bored. He wanted some entertainment.
He directed the road traffic at Moscow’s Stalinskaya Square across Dzerzinski Street.
He raised his right palm in front of his face, and studied his fingers intently.
He looked at his little finger. My pinkie! Little it was, but a big help in school.
He mused how he used to wave it proudly at the teacher in class, and escape from the classroom. He wanted to empty his bladder or the rubbish he was taught.
Next, Ivan Gesticulatovich looked at his ring finger. Aah, the quiet one.
It didn’t seem to do much. But it was of some help, anyways - to hold things, and such like. It held up things for him as well. Like the ring he wore. It meant a marriage, responsibilities, and coming back home from work at six everyday. No hanky-panky. Ya, ya, ya….
The middle finger! Every time he looked at it, he felt like screaming: “I got the power! ” He had heard that in the USA and in some countries in Europe, people expressed their power. With just one finger! Ivan Gesticulatovich felt liberated. Now here, he thought, was where freedom lay.
Ivan Gesticulatovich stared at his index finger. He was in awe of it. He had dreamt many times that he was a conductor at an orchestra, waving his index finger in an arc of graceful proportion, vividly capturing the subtleties and nuances of Tchaikovsky, Handel, Grieg, Bach, and Schubert. Unfortunately, in reality, Ivan Gesticulatovich had his superior’s index finger waving in front of his face (at work) and his wife’s (at home) . He sighed sadly. What an unused finger! But the middle and index finger forked together signified human victory, how wonderful! But, turn the hand the other way around, and it again spelt trouble. He blamed Churchill for inventing it.
Ivan Gesticulatovich was fond of his thumb. It stamped of an universal symbol. He had heard that in some countries, the thumb was still used progressively as a means of indicating illiteracy. Funnily, in other countries, it indicated a sign of “good for you, ” or “all the best, ” “cheers, ” etc.
Overall, Ivan Gesticulatovich praised the use of the combination of his index finger and thumb. He could hold a pen and write. Ooh la la! True freedom at last! He could do anything. He could minutely dissect feelings, images, feel cool and hot breaths on his cheek, and here and there, create waiflike, fairy-like creatures, manifest truly unbelievable sights and emotions, fire, heat, saliva, gossamers, silvery dews, pain, unending love, pouting lips, heaving bosoms, flirty eyes, drowning eyes, limpid pools, anguished souls, rape, burning, politicians, trees, stems, roses, plants, vegetations, moon, destiny, haiku, lass, svelte, moonlight, darkness, lament, ethereal……..and do all this while working, day in, day out. In spite of this seemingly insurmountable exercise, he became a poet.
Some time later, as he stood at his now familiar position at the crossroad, Ivan Gesticulatovich could hear a commotion. It was coming from a building across the street, which housed the Joyceginssandburgian Society of Poets. The noise was about his poems. Evidently, after having read them, many poets had fainted due to rage or ecstasy – he did not know which one - or both - as yet. But he got noticed all the same.
Ivan Gesticulatovich is today Russia’s leading ‘Finger’ poet. He was truly fingered!


03rd April 2009
Copyright © SC
Subroto Chatterjee