#74 Diaspora

Diaspora

This poem is very personal to me. It is about my emotions getting stirred up during a journey from my home to hostel.[ Like bodies, thoughts do travel far connecting souls and creating desired environment. Thus putting us in a state of hallucination in the way that we face a dilemma to distinguish between the dream and reality. ] I had a dream a night before seeing my mom and father on the platform waiting for me, my mom in a dark Maroon suit which she actually possessed then, that dream faded away with the ringing of the alarm clock. And to my surprise, I found a lady with the same Maroon suit boarding the compartment in which I sat few seats away from my sister as per my seat number. I was listening to music to shoo away my boredom, simultaneously praying God not to make that lady to face me, this did not happen actually. I was surprised at the striking similarity between that lady and my mom, same Salwar Suit, a pair of glasses, same complexion, similar hairstyle and the most surprising being similarity in  face!! I could not make out what was going around. Was I still in dream? I was so emotionally moved that I felt like running towards her to give her a tight hug. I would have done that had she stayed few minutes more in the same compartment.

With luggages at hand

And determined stand

I waited on the platform

To watch the train come.

The train approached with

A hissing sound

And the smoke ejected

Dusted the shining cloud.

Boarded the train

With a heave of sigh

Cause the crowd was tight

Blurring the present sight.

A loving mother with the

Apple of her eye

The maternity which tied

That lovely Sapphire.

I imagined as if

That child was I

Resting over my mom’s lap

Unaware of the world’s crass.

The diaspora of thoughts and bodies

Created an abyss

Making the appearance

Of a utopian reality.

 

19.09.2014

Swati Sarangi