The taste is very bitter, from tongue to throat,
up to the intestine, bitterness everywhere
the toothpaste in the tube, the broken brush
everything.
till nightfall everything was fine,
a good sleep and endless dreams . . .
most of the dreams disappeared with night,
but this came with me till morning
stuck to my eyelids till the eyes opened.
There were a number of slippers and I was searching for mine
A number of beautiful slippers but mine are missing
There my flight is ready, here I have lost my slipper
Why should I give up my journey because of slippers? I told myself
But a journey without slippers, that too by air, is out of the question
How many steps can I climb?
These slippers are my feet, my legs and my knees
And my legs? Oh, they are only walking sticks
which cannot walk without slippers.
Slippers are my identity, they are my personality
They are my height, on which I can stand and touch the sky
They are my present and future
They are the beauty of my dress
If a jewel is missing, no one will notice
If the heel of a slipper is broken, the whole world will see
My journey is about to start and I am in search of slippers
My flight is ready; I am in search of slippers
My future is weeping but I am in search of slippers
Slippers are my Mantra, slippers are my Dharma
Are they missing, or am I?
O Indra, Varun, Agni Dev!
All directions!
Earth and Sky!
I am searching for the slippers
Loosing my self
Rati Saxena (20th century) India
Source: Kritya
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