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Poem

Prathibha Nandakumar

At the Staircase

Standing beside the serpentine staircase
he pleaded
come, come away with me,
be my woman
Holding the heavy bag
full of vegetables and groceries
I wiped the sweat off my forehead
with the worn-out end of the sari

He was quite serious
Is this life?
How pale you have become,
What happened to you,
When did you last write a poem?

Pushing my curls away, he whispered
You are a fool, this is not the end.
Poverty leads to desperation.
Have you ever put the change into your purse
Without counting?
Ever bought the dress off a mannequin?

I just listened to him.
The bag was beginning to be very heavy.

I climbed the serpentine staircase and
removed the chappals at the door.
Put the vegetables and groceries away
and sat down to watch my favourite TV programme.

There is still half an hour before I serve dinner.

AT THE STAIRCASE

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At the Staircase

Standing beside the serpentine staircase
he pleaded
come, come away with me,
be my woman
Holding the heavy bag
full of vegetables and groceries
I wiped the sweat off my forehead
with the worn-out end of the sari

He was quite serious
Is this life?
How pale you have become,
What happened to you,
When did you last write a poem?

Pushing my curls away, he whispered
You are a fool, this is not the end.
Poverty leads to desperation.
Have you ever put the change into your purse
Without counting?
Ever bought the dress off a mannequin?

I just listened to him.
The bag was beginning to be very heavy.

I climbed the serpentine staircase and
removed the chappals at the door.
Put the vegetables and groceries away
and sat down to watch my favourite TV programme.

There is still half an hour before I serve dinner.

At the Staircase

Standing beside the serpentine staircase
he pleaded
come, come away with me,
be my woman
Holding the heavy bag
full of vegetables and groceries
I wiped the sweat off my forehead
with the worn-out end of the sari

He was quite serious
Is this life?
How pale you have become,
What happened to you,
When did you last write a poem?

Pushing my curls away, he whispered
You are a fool, this is not the end.
Poverty leads to desperation.
Have you ever put the change into your purse
Without counting?
Ever bought the dress off a mannequin?

I just listened to him.
The bag was beginning to be very heavy.

I climbed the serpentine staircase and
removed the chappals at the door.
Put the vegetables and groceries away
and sat down to watch my favourite TV programme.

There is still half an hour before I serve dinner.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère