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Kuzhur Wilson Mar 2021
He doesn't know me

Neither do I know him

There's a lake between us

Full of fish

The fish does not belong to him

Neither are they mine

That these fishes belong

to neither him nor me

is a link that connects us

A sky lies fallen in the lake

and through the slopes

of cloud I see

the fishes slink away.

The clouds fallen, still

show movement when nudged

by the fish

Could there be fish

unafraid of birds? Look

at that sky in the lake

Would he be seeing this,

I began to think

and whether he will read my thoughts

I could not imagine

what he saw in the lake, and

there was not enough time

Let him think whatever he likes

There's a cigarette in his hand

The fact that there's one in mine

is another link that connects us

I think the smoke from my cigarette

and the clouds are friends

That's why I mourn the clouds

floating bloated in the lake.

Reading the face you know

His thoughts are unlike

There's no sadness in him

He might be smoking

out of boredom

He's darker than me

That too is a link, but

he doesn't know that I'm white

and that my blackness is an act

He too might have been white

and would have gathered soot

after being left by a mother

who lost all his memories

Can't be, he's black

The lake of clouds

where sky lies fallen

My curls of smoke

in the company of clouds

A me, unblack
Translated by Binu Karunakaran

— The End —