All you who sleep tonight
Far from the ones you love,
No hand to left or right
And emptiness above -
After a long and wretched flight
That stretched from daylight into night,
Where babies wept and tempers shattered
And the plane lurched and whiskey splattered
Sunday night in the house.
The blinds drawn, the phone dead.
The sound of the kettle, the rain.
Supper: cheese, celery, bread.
To make love with a stranger is the best.
There is no riddle and there is no test. --
To lie and love, not aching to make sense
Vikram Seth is an Indian poet, novelist, travel writer, librettist, children's writer, biographer and memoirist.
Born and Early Life
Vikram Seth was born to Leila and Prem Seth in Calcutta (now Kolkata). His family lived in many cities including the Bata Shoe Company town of Batanagar, Danapur near Patna, and in London.
His young ...