A contemplative poem about life and its philosophy by Subramanian – exclusively for Different Truths.

Let me not do a U-turn of
my neck to see the past.
 
Skill sets that lost their sheen
in time, high hopes slithering down
a slippery slope and scorned by
ingrate times that sang an ode to Darwin.
 
Warm a pedigreed chair with an emaciated stare,
or a rickety one unfit for your pedigree.
My chagrined inner voice said
“Fruit is not the milestone; karma is”
Me, fellow mortals, were never shy of
bending our backs, cerebral sparks
that lighted many and pleased a few.
But landed as always, where destined
with a sickening thud and inner nudge
“This is not what you strove for….”
 
Soon days wove into burdened years
when stars shone less in a dark dawn,
my own halo eclipsed in oblivion.
An old raging song that stirred the chords
of a crowd lost suddenly in the eerie!
Years later had an awkward timbre
when resung on a changed string! 

I sense the new faces, old hopes straining
to carve a frame, new light!
I go back to my dusky sky, see where
I slipped amid the stars which shone once.

Picture design by Anumita Roy, Different Truths

K. S. Subramanian

K.S. Subramanian has published two volumes of poetry titled Ragpickers and Treading on Gnarled Sand through the Writers Workshop, Kolkata, India. His poem ‘Dreams’ won the cash award in Asian Age, a daily published from New Delhi. He has been featured in MuseIndia. His poems and short stories have also appeared in magazines, anthologies and web sites run at home and abroad. He is a retd. Senior Asst. Editor from The Hindu, India.

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