Saturday, May 8, 2010

The Hole in the Wall

A hole in the wall, in the lecture hall
A point of destruction, a poetic distraction
The indolent students’ idle fixation,
an entity defying definition.

The hole in the wall-
a subtle transition,
between concentration and suspended abstraction
We traced its spiralling roundness,
delved in its meandering distances.

The hole in the wall, the swallower of light,
sucker of rationale, the lifter-
of a vague, pestering pain.
As somna descends, the dark dot becomes two,
then many, bullet holes, sun spots,
minute black-holes inhaling logic, exhaling vacuum,
a continuum of deranged desires,
a conundrum for the languid observer.

Talks, subjects blend, mingled-
Hyper-reality, ethics,
Phantom-limb, all 'isms',
a whirl wind of minute beads-
connecting, disconnecting,
over my head, vaporizing
crystallizing into broken icicles,
in scraps of paper, underlined text books,
in sticky notes, on sweaty palms.

The hole in the wall, the only constant-
perpendicular above the teachers’ forehead.
The converse of the sword of Damocles-
unmoving, nonthreatening,
the object of idle speculation.
A persistent subject of arbitrary contemplation,
a subtle sensuality, a mid-morning perversion.

The hole in the wall, it inspired dreams,
of caverns, wells, wombs and wounds.
hazy edged, smooth, hung in semi-sleep-
it stared, got stared at, loathed and loved.
Hands itched to imitate it, nature copied it,
concentric circles carved on benches,
dark hollows under the weary eye rims,
dank concave mouths kissed in
unused toilets, shared emptiness
until inevitable boredom filled
between trembling tongues
and budding wisdom teeth.
Debates that went on in circles
like the hole in the wall
their unvarying inflexibility.

Hole in the wall, one day it was gone.
In time for the NAAC assessment,
the crumbling old  college
turned into a glossy university.
The hole was cemented up and white-washed over,
sank in silence into non-existence.

The romance ended, I graduated.



Nikita Banerjee said...

Lovely. Very well written. :)

Sunil Aggarwal said...

The poem is marvellous but again at the end?????? Your poem created so many waves of imaginations that I was able to see so many faultlines around and was able to see so many forms of hope. In and around the fetish of wakefulness, you inserted a possibility everywhere around. the poem was carrying the power of piercing every wall that we have built around but you made it a satire at the end. Had it been reverse that is beginning from satire and ending at a hole, things would have been ok but beginning from identified presence and ending up at a lost presence!!!!!!!!!

mikimbizi said...

@Nik Thanks girl...

@Sunil I suppose its the perception. Every fantasy comes to an end, everything is so ephemeral. And hence the cynicism. Yes, I suppose from an aesthetic perspective it is a bit dampening. I wish I had the patience to rework !

Mayur said...

converse of the sword of damocles?!

wacky, just wacky. now i gotta go back to reading this. ;)

Siva said...

Nicely written... keep writing.
Siva said...

Melancholic...but well written - the pathos n the nostalgia are there...keep up - do write some fun stuff - wanna laugh a bit - you've got it in you!m - ykw