Reading up on books that talk of your soil and smell of your own language can be heady..but then one must know how to smell, in between the pages, between the lines, even between the words, to find oneself there..and I have been waiting to feel you so long, where poetry ended and you began, who knows.
'Suddenly I saw Pakhi standing by my desk. The moment I saw her I realized, this is what I had been waiting for. Yes no point trying to hide it. I felt I had made her appear with the force of my longing- She had no choice, she could not have done otherwise. So I was not surprised, I said nothing, I only looked at her in silence.
Pakhi was the first one to speak. I remember her words clearly.
"I'm a lady. You should stand up when you see me"
I stood up obediently.
"Reading so late in the night?"
"I glanced at the fat, open book in response."
"Are you up only to read?"
My head lowered itself in guilt. There was a silent pause. I could hear the ticking of the clock in the next room. There was one more sound, probably a sound in my heart, a strange one.'
As I read, in the distance of the neighbourhood plays 'Chompa Chameli..' and somehow I am home, where you are..where I reside
( Conversation lines from, 'My kind of girl' By Buddhadeva Basu- Translated By Arunava Sinha)
3 comments:
Hello Maitreyi, I liked your blog and nominated you for a blogger award called liebster Award, (you might have nominated by others as well). The award works like a chain letter where bloggers answer 10 questions abt themselves and nominate 10 more bloggers to answer a new set of 10 questions. you can check the process to complete this chain at below link
http://priteshdubey.blogspot.in/2013/11/liebster-award.html
And a smell is always dangerous for it can lead us anywhere, sometimes to places that are buried deeper than the deepest and leave us soaked with a craving for something that never can be had.
Joy always,
Susan
True that Susan :) & thank you for taking the time to be here & read with such sincerity. Much love
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