Well, it’s all in the Game

An evocative, multi-layered poem, a social commentary, by Rituparna, exclusively for Different Truths.

These pair of greyed eyes are 
parched to have a glimpse of you.
It has been a couple of years or 
more. You are delved 
though for some greater 
reasons, I know.
Well, it’s all in the game. 

More than three quarters of 
a year has elapsed in the 
labyrinth of time when 
the last letter flew from you.
In which distant part you are 
now, there’s nowhere about 
known. 
Well, it’s all in the game. 

Incessant pouring of last 
monsoon has left every bit of 
the roof tattered and waiting 
for a minimal funding, to be 
re done. Yet your place of 
shelter at present, is a haze. 
Well, it’s all in the game. 

Chameli has given birth to 
two lovely male calves. Yet 
she moos and moans to 
quench you and mother you. 
We wonder if you’re having  
two square meals to 
feed yourself. 
Well, it’s all in the game. 

Your sister’s engagement is done. 
Date to be fixed is waiting for you. 
She denies leaving for her 
in-laws’ sans your presence 
and blessings.
Well, it’s all in the game. 
Media says, the northwestern 
horizon is again blooded with 
grenades these days. Your 
mother nags in vain if there’s 
any update from your end. 
Well, it’s all in the game. 

You're more a son for greater 
good. I console her with these 
words though. Our cradle of love 
is too small for your guardian 
self now. 
Well, it’s all in the game. 

This dawn the knock at the door  
startled me up. We three came 
out to confront you, shrouded 
in tricolor, leaving us standing 
dumbfounded in wilderness,
forever. 
Well, it’s all in the game.  

Visual by Different Truths