The Race Poem by Anagha Kargutkar Shukla

I run with the baton of life in hand.
I run come rain or shine, wind or snow;
I run like there’s no tomorrow, for today.

From the resting point, nothing escapes your watchful eye.
That bead of sweat, the crease on the forehead,
the tension in every sinew.
It keeps my hamstrings at work, just the knowledge of it all.

Then you stretch out your arm and give me a look.
You know it’s time.
You swiftly grab the baton, and break in to a run.
I crash down on my knees and smile.

It’s a never ending relay, this life of ours.


March 2010