By Pankhuri Sinha
PROMPT — Who am I today?
Where do we wish to get to
And what are we running away from?
Are these also places?
And does it also mean
That one W here
Can be easily, effortlessly replaced by
Another W, what becomes where?
Where amounts to what?
People turn into objects
Or maybe, old fashioned subjects
Citizens of no where
No man’s land, while dreaming
Of world citizenship
And this reduction
Gets somewhat carried
Along all the routes of migration
Up until one destination to another
Getting fixed in that infamous question
‘So where are you from?’
Or that question, asked somewhat more pejoratively
‘So where is home?’
And why do we not belong?
To it and to other places and to things?
Well, originally from here
And basically, from there!
Calling this place my home now
But I left my roots behind, yet,
Can't go back! Its impossible!
Camping these days
In my native place
But I feel like
Am living someone else’s
Life! If that’s a line
From a popular song
At least, not feeling like
Myself should express
Convey! My state of mind
In my state of birth
Surrounded always
With calls of fitting in!
Time hangs suspended
Looking for balance
With molds of thinking
Frames of being
Paradigms of existence
Is it a borrowed identity
From my own old self
Feeling misfit like second skin
Dangling loosely
Or is it a second life altogether?
And is there a second chance
Somewhere around
And this is not it? Not at all?
To travel back in time
Place wise, deed wise?
But have we moved forward dramatically?
And have witnessed our rebirths?
In alien spaces, clamoring for our voices?
Perfecting our dictions
In equality negotiations?
One we could never have had
Back home? And now that we are here
In our native surroundings
Are we stagnating? Like rain water?
And should we drain ourselves in a cup of tea
And sprinkle with lemon
And garnish with mint
To energize and re-invent ?
Do we need to leave again to blossom?
But why is this transit so long?
Why weren’t we settled
In our earlier departures?
What is the confrontation
With dualities of lives?
And what constructs
The compulsory bifurcation
In binaries of operation?
Isn't there any place nice
Close by? Whom should we ask
And how should we ask?
Are we among the unfortunate
Banished from the garden of Eden
or among the chosen who will be called again?
Is visiting a burden?
Wanting complications?
Simple desires of broad views
A curse? Can we make it into a boon?
And should we be waiting
In a somewhat more visible
Locale, to be not missed?
To be picked up?
By forces unknown
Yet, coveted?
Why can’t we simply belong?
Or do we honestly
Belong to that pull
Of the beyond?
And, do we never really leave
Even after we have left?
Pankhuri Sinha is a bilingual Indian poet and writer. She has published ten collections and has many more lined up. Her writing has been published in many journals, anthologies, home, and abroad. Pankhuri has won many prestigious, national and international awards. Her work has been translated into twenty six languages. Pankhuri writes from New Delhi.
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