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An evocative poem where memory and identity merge in a chair by Prabal, exclusively for Different Truths.
My inheritances are humble Among them An incredible chair deserves the attention Seated upon it Everyone looks the same My grandfather used to sit on it Later followed by my father And my father minutely resembled the grandfather’s image Just to avoid getting into The trap of resembling the father I always avoided this chair I made unknown figures sitting on this chair And found out each of them resembled the other I experimented with my friends Even with my relatives Whom I failed to differentiate After seating on this When the wives of my friends Saw my wife using the chair They expressed their desire to sit upon And in fear, I hid it from their reach I reckon every god would look the same Once they were made to sit upon this chair Even all the religions would become the same Obliterating the divisions This chair is not a royal one Instead, a piece of everyday furniture Made of good quality woods If any one of you lacks adequate faith in yourself You may come and sit on this chair And discover Who do you are, and Whom do you resemble in real?
Translated from Bengali by Armaan Singh
Picture design by Anumita Roy, Different Truths
