Thursday, November 12, 2009

894 : Sit by Vikram Seth (from all you who sleep tonight)

Sit, drink your coffee here; your work can wait awhile.
You are twenty-six, and still have some of life ahead.
No need for wit; just talk vacuities, and I’ll
Reciprocate in kind, or laugh at you instead.

The world is too opaque; distressing and profound,
The twenty minutes’ rendezvous will make my day.
To sit here in the sun, with grackles all around.
Staring with beady eyes, and you two feet away.

(This could easily have been my poem on a Sunday morning, or a Friday evening, or a everyday lazy morning. I feel strongly that the cup of “poison” (be it wine, coffee, chai or a smoke) is more than just that, its a process by which two people can connect over meaningless nothings. The more faster our lives become, the more we keep losing this ritual. Can we please save it for me? (Seriously) It means a lot to me. I believe, this is all that I shall carry to my grave. The rest will (g)race and pass past me in those final moments :-))

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