Roots Poem by Prayag Saikia

Why do the roots, born in the sky
Thirst for the soil?

On moonlit nights
I keep gazing
At the oldest fig
In Haiku's hamlet.

What enormity!

Clutching on to the fig
I suspend myself as a bat
And rehearse the part of Trishanku.*

O' World, don't shove me!
O' Heaven, don't don't drive me away!

As a species of moonlight
My body shall, after all, spread its roots
In the barren fields.
_
Trishanku-King of the ‘Surya'dynasty and father of king Harischandra who remained suspended in mid-air following sage Viswamitra's boon of sending him to heaven physically and Indra's resistance to it.

(Translated by Krishna Dulal Baruah)