Theme: Helplessness

In the Evening your Shadow is Longer than You

thrill, apprehensions, expectations, plans:
immediate and far-reaching
new encounters: physical,
cultural, professional, emotional -
communications in a multi-
lingual, multi -cultural environment
shocks, surprises, shreddings of
shivers, suspicions,  anxiety peeled out
with the every passing moment
on a new land: pearls of experience,
promise of freedom and opportunity
and dream - of a home away from home
on the globe a tiny dot
in  the heart an infinite space
criss-crossed by the displaced veins
and arteries of memories and nostalgia
carrying thick blood of loss and loneliness
and hope -sometimes tips of toes are numb
with cold winter, naked trees tease
sometimes the face glosses
the map of remembrance
summer breeze smiles
with rains, heavy drops
surface on  the mirrors, wrinkled mirrors
multiple images appear
drops stumble over the fault lines
of the face, the runway of a busy airport
in a far away place, a tiny dot on the globe
a shadow is longer than you
emptying life crossing the borders
of multiple memories
eyes stare at the yellow leaves
of an expired passport
naturalized in the new one
now a bona-fide  citizen in self-exile –
far, free, and stamped with fate
on the tiny dot on the globe
in the evening my shadow
will be longer than my shrunk bent body
magnified by the sun glowing to set
in the horizon beyond which my sight
can not travel but my memory can go beyond
any geographical frontier
which i had crossed before
my shadow too, being bigger than i am
will sprawl  beyond a border
and the soul will emerge from the seal
of my residence visa: the visage of
an émigré, to come with me
and merge with the tiny dot
on the globe – there
in a remote place
where  today i
could not reach
after my arrival.  


More By  : Prof. Dr. Anil K. Prasad

Views: 1406     Comments: 1

Comments on this Poem

Comment "Helplessness is a state which has no description.."
What can one describe about the pathetic image described.
Except these comments
It reminds me of a verse that I read a writer
"Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all, "

10-Dec-2010 13:48 PM

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