Trying to reconcile with recondite
lines of your life results in asphyxiation.
You are oblivious of me, my bacha,
oblivious of my anxieties, our ado.
While we are numbed by this numinous play
it is you who is sniggering in stealth.
Perhaps you know the truths of your travel.
We must accept you as you are.
That is the ukase of grace.
In acceptance is our arrival
to embrace corrective anthems.
That is our need. You’re complete
with your cackle, my child.
*For a friend’s little girl,
rare in her quiet way.
(for my only niece)
Biennially, serotinal tidings
announce your arrival, and I begin
to spruce up my cache of chestnuts.
Even prayers need polishing.
Are we adults? How do we erase
the initial hesitancies in our chinfests?
Who will launder the limbus?
I’m always out of practice.
We’re not always at pink tea.
There is ease and exchange.
Care and some confusion.
Your posts on peregrinity please.
Elements in your energy
connect with my corners.
This knells on my nothingness
ensouling my omerta.
Panglossian in piety will assuage
by offering you its clutch of courage
when tentacles of truth plague.
That is a function of Faith.
Exegesis is inwards:
unsigned and autonomous.
If others believe you’re lulling yourself
into a fun house of delusion, so be it.
Sanjeev Sethi is the author of Suddenly For Someone, Nine Summers Later and This Summer and That Summer. At different phases of his career he has written for newspapers, magazines and journals. He has produced radio and television programmess. His poems have found homes in The London Magazine, The Fortnightly Review, Solstice Literary Magazine, Off the Coast Literary Journal, 3 Quarks Daily, Lemon Hound, Poetry & Prose Daily – Paper. li, Poetry Australia, Indian Literature, Journal of the Poetry Society (India), The Indian P.E.N., Literature Alive, journal of the British Council (India), Delhi Gymkhana Club Ltd. Centenary Souvenir, The Statesman, The Hindu, and elsewhere. He lives in Mumbai, India.