When I was a child
I used to sit in the balcony
of that flat
which stood in the midst of that hectic city
and watch a black plum tree
that shaded the backyard;
its giant branches
in which a delicate swing was hanged
by the children
who played under its shade;
its purple fruits dropped,
made the yard dirty,
perhaps but of course
it was a city.
For I could also just see
from the same balcony
those glittering spires of the Nehru Stadium,
and the name boards
of the five-star restaurants
that gleamed during the nights;
I could hear
the sounds of
the vehicles that crowded those shabby roads,
and the sounds of bargains
the street vendors made with their customers
sitting on those narrow pavements…..
I saw the children who
played under the shade
of that tree;
nobody else did take care of it.
But I just went there
to join them
and taste those fruits
that changed
the red tongue of mine purple.
I was but greedy
for I wished to live in
a village
where there would be
much more plum trees;
also the trees that are never watered
but bloomed unconditionally
with an enthusiasm
filling the whole village air
with its benign scent……!
I longed to go and
the people who held
me dear decided
to take me.
All then changed.
The pigeon that brooded
on the ledges of my balcony
died before we left.
Little heartbroken
did I feel
but went forward
in hope of goodness…
but disappointed I was
when I reached that place
to find merely
those rubber trees nurtured well,
but one strong wind
at once it collapsed.
I felt those lost innocence
when I realized there were no children
playing under those trees,
but just those men
who came at the break of dawn
tapping those very trees
that stood for conditions…
ever since I was a child,
innocence in that sense
wasn’t friendly with me
in all pranks it played with me,
I just did accept my failure
in vain.
So I wished, I could grow fast,
stop this childish games
playing pranks and getting teased …
perhaps but now at this village
where there are neither plum trees
nor children playing;
where just growth rules supreme and
innocence is no where to be seen
the very sight of these pubic hair
that cover my body
hurts me at each pore…
growth by all means
has become something
that taunts me the most…
so I shall go back
leaving this village
which continues its
nugatory mocking
and return to that city
where I could just stand alone
and contemplate
the tastes of these black plums
and the sounds
of those children playing …
how could I wish for much further
and how dare I make this comparison
in this very earth
where still lives people
who hardly realize
that beauty rules
only in genuine faces … !

  1. Haridasan 3 years ago

    Nice thoughts and lines, Gautham!

  2. Peter 3 years ago

    Missing the village, but, its all yesteryear’s memory only now…

    • Author
      Gautham kalikrishna 3 years ago

      Well 🙂 The poet has no intention to glorify the village life… Insted the poem speaks about the mans ultimate quest for beauty…
      The man who gets dissappointed by the outerworld and becomes introspevtive..In that very quest is the topic..

  3. Peter 3 years ago

    I conquer! “.. gets disappointed by the outerworld…” is what mattered to me. Yet, nothing wrong in glorifying the village life, though it is a history now… Best regards,

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