it came like a vague pain
long lost in the beating of time
a realisation
an information
an unpleasant realism
like suddenly noticing that the
man who comes to make the gardens beautiful
is always in rags of clothes
and that the man who drives little children
to despotic schools
has his teeth charred with cheap cigarettes
and that enormous sadness in the yellow eyes
thinking every day
of his mother who has bad lungs and is senile
of his wife who wants cheap new bangles
to color the grind of curses hurts -Chores they are called
and he lights a new beedi
and i get uncomfortable
with the idea of love
yes an idea
no longer Love
with the feeling and the awesomeness
but a stone hard realism of a feminist
and it makes me want to turn away
or look past and look at ,and leap
to the solitude of a traveler
revelling in the journey
of the earth with it's hospitality
