হঠাৎ নীরার জন্য

Three minutes at the bus-stop, yet for hours in my dream last night I saw you embedded like a knife across the ocean – compass-less – One body like the fifty-two holy places, in the wind I saw you last night in my dream, Neera, in the dire blue times Of dreams that ripen once and die.

When did you visit the southern sea-door, with whom? Have you only just returned? How terrible, how silent the ocean was in the dream, without a wave, As though it would kill itself three days later, your horizon in the distance Like a lost ring, your knees immersed in the blue water Suddenly you seemed to be a gambler’s moll And yet you were alone, alone in the intense dream.

I shan’t sleep for a year, wiping the sweat off the brow At dawn after a dream seems so very foolish I prefer forgetfulness, as free of shame as The naked body hidden in clothes, I Shan’t sleep for a year, for a year I’ll be awake, dreamless And roam your body, like the fifty-two holy places, To earn my piety.

Your smiling face in the bus window, ‘I have to go, Come home sometime!’ The shriek of the sunlight drowns all sounds. ‘Stay a little longer,’ or ‘Let’s go to the library garden.’ Someone In my heart said these things, glancing at my watch with Remembering eyes I jump up, leapfrogging over the road, buses, trams, Carts and people Loping on all four limbs like an orang-utan I reach the door to the office lift.

Three minutes at the bus-stop, yet for hours in my dream last night.