Tuna

There are days when I think Tuna is the best fish god ever made for human consumption. Those are the days I feel like Hobbes…with fur et al.

October 28, 2006

Sometimes I wish I lived in an illusion; it probably brings less uncertainty than life does. Today was a weird day. I did a bit of work…was super pissed off cuz of chumming and had a huge meeting which puts me in a dilemma of added responsibilities v/s new horizons. My heart’s heavy today. Even two glasses of beer couldn’t make it light. I need a hug…but my teddy suddenly looks unadorable. For a change orange lights seem too bright. The night irks me more than usual. Today’s Mid-day is fluttering irritatingly against my leg. I don’t feel as pretty as a wine glass. And as I puke out more of the complexities that the day brings, I wonder at the harmony in which razor edged emotions co-exist with a heavy heart devoid of the inclination to create a mirage. I need my illusion…it has less uncertainties. I wish I wouldn’t plunge dangerously low to replace confident assertion of choices with mundane bluntness of tapping fingers. I wish illusion were reality. I wish the day was as hinged as the constant creaking of crickets outside. The day was uncharming. Even my new silver n white sneakers couldn’t make it sparkle.

Written a few years ago, this poem was in response to news reports about Australian missionary Graham Stewart Steins and his two minor sons who were burnt alive in Orissa by a Hindu mob.

-----
The man of God was engulfed in flames
Yellow serpents kissed cross
some scheming, some screaming
a bright light, a darker darkness
When embers died,
what remained
was the charred soul of the perpetrator