Blinders
You know–
since life is that one day
in the face of the biggest crisis
spent running
from the massive iron ball
rolling rapidly towards you
from behind,
each of you sprint ahead.
Some in different directions,
most to the center–
however you can save yourselves
the longest.
Some know exactly where to head,
some zip glances around
to judge the best path.
Probably find another person
to hold your hand
headed to that exact same point
or not quite.
You either hold hands still
because of the sheer pleasure,
or race in different directions,
however you can save yourselves, the longest.
While running, you watch a few people strangely
settled already on that strong tree,
which has lost its beauty in the tornado
which may be deracinated.
But perhaps for them, few moments of peace and community
on this oasis in this wretched desert
make it worth it.
Some more slow down and cross the sea
that may be bottomless
but may offer the magic they seek.
You see the bonhomie on the tree,
the tranquility of the sea,
the gratification of holding hands,
and you think.
Perhaps that is what you want.
Then why do you run to the center?
Do you even know where the herd is going?
Did you stop to look clearly
before you wore your blinders?
In fact this iron ball that you said is chasing you
to shorten your life and take away everything,
did you once turn around
to find out what it is?
ASTHA GUPTA was born in Delhi and is currently based in Bangalore, India. She graduated from a management school in India. Her interests are poetry, traveling, dance, and film-making. She has previously been published in Cha: an Asian Literary Journal.
You know–
since life is that one day
in the face of the biggest crisis
spent running
from the massive iron ball
rolling rapidly towards you
from behind,
each of you sprint ahead.
Some in different directions,
most to the center–
however you can save yourselves
the longest.
Some know exactly where to head,
some zip glances around
to judge the best path.
Probably find another person
to hold your hand
headed to that exact same point
or not quite.
You either hold hands still
because of the sheer pleasure,
or race in different directions,
however you can save yourselves, the longest.
While running, you watch a few people strangely
settled already on that strong tree,
which has lost its beauty in the tornado
which may be deracinated.
But perhaps for them, few moments of peace and community
on this oasis in this wretched desert
make it worth it.
Some more slow down and cross the sea
that may be bottomless
but may offer the magic they seek.
You see the bonhomie on the tree,
the tranquility of the sea,
the gratification of holding hands,
and you think.
Perhaps that is what you want.
Then why do you run to the center?
Do you even know where the herd is going?
Did you stop to look clearly
before you wore your blinders?
In fact this iron ball that you said is chasing you
to shorten your life and take away everything,
did you once turn around
to find out what it is?
ASTHA GUPTA was born in Delhi and is currently based in Bangalore, India. She graduated from a management school in India. Her interests are poetry, traveling, dance, and film-making. She has previously been published in Cha: an Asian Literary Journal.
