...he who is not productive in other fields can atleast produce literature.
Rabindranath Tagore
Waterworks
Visvanathan Balasaravanan
to
the deserted room of my home
(the factory of my creative works)
1. the age of innocence
I looked at you.
You too.
Our eyes smiled.
I gave my train;
you gave your car.
With time passing out,
together, we played.
Then, my finger
(locked into your bangle)
pulled it out.
The broken bangles
made your eyes brim...
You pushed me strongly,
against my chest by two inches
and ran crying,
"Mummy..."
2. the age of infatuation and love
I looked at you.
You too.
Our eyes got locked.
We knew what we're doing,
but we don't.
Why did I see you
for five seconds or more?
or why did I?
Aching to be life partners?
Why did I prefer death
without you?
Who are you?
what is this happening between us?
Why am I happy?
Is this, the love?
3. the age of romance and sex
I looked at you.
You too.
Our fingers penetrated
through one another.
We're coupled
by the social factor.
Nescient, we're about life.
Then decision we took:
'We would never separate
under any circumstances in life.'
Consummating throughout the day,
playing with our antenatal clothing,
with innumerous kisses and infinite presses,
we explored ourselves
in amorous manner.
With dreams for the future,
everyday, we cleared.
4. the age of happiness
I looked at you.
You too.
Tightly pressed
were our hands with one-another.
As you're taken away by the nurses,
I was fidgeting. Few moments later,
nurse came, told me,
'It's a girl!'
I ran to you and
you nestled against me,
with tears and smiles.
The nascent life was poised
between our hands.
We smiled and thought:
Miracle, we made.
Achievement, we did.
A life, we created.
5. the age of responsibility
I looked at you.
You too.
We stood separated,
by a little 'life'.
We forgot eachother;
But not really.
In some day's heavy work,
in my head-ache,
when your hands svelted
on my head,
I felt... I felt you.
And then as my hands
would go around you,
we heard,
'Pa..., Ma..., where are you ?'
6. the age of responsibility
I looked at you.
You too.
Having worked out our duties,
we sat back in the chairs,
of 'our' home in the
remoteness of the town.
With the red-blue clouds
of the evening, we would
rewind to our memories, and move
forward to our dreams.
And when you suffered with that
chronic pain in your legs, and
when I applied the ointment,
you said to me,
'I feel... I feel you.'
7. the age of care
I looked at you.
You too.
And you sat by my side.
My trembling hand
caressed yours.
Landed, your head
on my shoulder.
I took your head
within my hands, and
when I placed a kiss
on your wrinkled forehead,
you looked into my eyes
and asked,
'Will you leave me ?
or will I ?'
8. the age of immortality
I never looked at you, afterwards.
You too.
You and me
are separated beyond reach
for fate's sake.
Might have I died
or you might have.
But not our love, care and affection.
With those,
after death, we live.
- the most blessed are those who encounter the toughest times... because, God thought you are the strongest to handle these toughest...
