ON MY HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

I have cried frivolously,
In a way to dramatize
The time of my birth.
Past few birthdays flew
In doing just that…
Imitating my Birth.
But, why is birth pompous
And death discreet?
And why must we swing
To-and-fro, in-between.
So, I choose to defy this…
The matter of contradiction.
To have my death joyfully
Declared to myself.
Or to weep a tumultuous sob
To mark my day of arrival.

Since death is busy
Going about in its usual
But passé ways,
Attending many other and
Better souls,
I shall lament grandly
Lament my own birth.
And in the same
Act of dramatization,
Play myself over and over again
In these re-runs
Year after year.
And I play the role of a
Tear drop rolling un-noticed
Gushing along with
The pungent sweat
Oozing from the dark polished
Skin of a rickshaw-puller.
And EXIT
In next scene, I play
The trickle of musky sweat
Rolling from the fair hide
Of a plump girl, languishing
In her balcony,
Watching vehicles pass by
But to intrigue all contradiction,
The sweat rolls to merge in
The ocean of tears she spills,
on the eve of her birthday!


24-06-2010