Monday, February 21, 2005

The Paper and the Wind

Standing on the simmering tar,
Baking in the heat reflected of dreary concrete,
I looked up and saw,
A white paper page descending from the heavens.

It floated, rising and falling, billowing in the wind,
I turned my head away, away from the relentless gleam of the noon sun,
The paper fluttered, playing with the currents of air,
Flirting with the rising passions of the ardent draft.

Then a fierce gust rose,
Swatting the paper with all its might,
The paper merely bent, and mocked, and laughed,
Rolling away, always on top, always falling in delight.

The dusty waft gave in, defeated,
Ever so lightly, it touched the brick,
Caressing the mud crusted sidewalk,
And then lay stagnant.

When I bent and tried to touch the page,
It eloped with the newborn wind,
Leaving me with a fistful of heat,
Staring at the frolicking lovers' dare.


  1. aargh!,life always does that to you..dangle things in front of you then retreat into a corner with "cat-like unctuousness".
    blast all of that i say..

  2. *Sigh* That's what comes to my mind...

    Nice post and thanks for coming by my Blog!

  3. i remember reading him when i was abt 15.both vivekananda and tagore made me feel all floatsy for days....wonder if i went back and read 'em again...i'd still appreciate them....?i think'd seem like high-flying ideals.isnt it funny how u can be idealistic and yet be cynical....?maybe all 'cynics' are idealists turned sour?

  4. @grafxgurl - what can I say to that ...

    @primalsoup - welcome to the blog. Thanks for dropping by.

    @rap - my god gurl! - how many more questions are you going to ask :-). I still appreciate them. Guess I am still holding on to the idealist in me, and I plan to hold on for a while longer ...

  5. Tagore and Vivekanana : Floatsy??
    For me they were so bloody heavy, that I kept them on the floor while reading! Tagore with his works on the thin veinlines of Feminism, Nationalism, Identity, Counter-Identity... Vivekananda with his brand of 'MatruBhakti' and yet the subdued feminine.

    Tagore was hardly idealistic. He was almsot cynical about a lot of things. Take for instance a brilliant novel like Gora. The turns and conflicts of identity, the hypocricy within the system, the self-contradictory nature of Brahmo Samaj...

    Thought: Ideals cease to be ideals when you think of as them as 'ideals'. :)

  6. Gora - yes a brilliant novel. That was infact the first Tagore novel I read. It is at the same time from another dimension and this one. But ofcourse Tagore was idealistic, at some level atleast - otherwise you cannot develop such a cynical wit towards the world. It is the contradictions to those ideals which get reflected (sometimes) as cynicism in his writings.

    I'll call both these writers... inspiring.

    Return thought: Thinking something ideal does not make it so, believing it does.

  7. hmmmpph
    comments maybe left at mirror blog ..