MUSINGS OVER COFFEE IN BETWEEN CHORES

Here you sit with a cigarette lit

The baby's fed and your cooking's done.

All that you dream of, like bubbles seem

Shimmering right here. There it's gone!

And of course

The sun will rise with each new day that arrives.

And of course

Your life will simply go on and on.

Sooner or later it will hardly matter

Who you once really were.

"What's on TV tonight…Was the dinner all right?

In India Pashmina shawls are cheaper."

Then aghast at your own reflection

You will seek therapeutic gratification

From the mall, the boutique and slimming parlor.

Nobody's to blame; life is just a game

Of chess: at home, at work or in bed.

And Time

Rolls on like a cascade of marbles,

Tumbling down

Life's troughs and crests, Life's little marvels

And, all the plots and plans of staying ahead.

That is why all eager

And willing

You plucked out your soul

To barter for this life, to be this bold

– possessive and house proud martyr

Smugly believing

That you are loved, that you are needed

- and that nothing else needs to be heeded.

© Rumjhum Biswas 2005

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