Friday, May 17, 2019


I go berserk on losing a thing.
It doesn't matter what.
Order scares me,
but so does the chaos!
I seek order most of the times,
and the more the seeking,
the more is the fear of falling into chaos.
I have a reputation built by now
for losing the things if placed in my custody.
The things lost, haunt my memory.
They escape the bounds of materiality.
Obsessions have no real cord,
and yet they bind you to the thing that has gone out of the reach.
The thing has a smell, an aroma, a feel,
like a book you loved and it got misplaced,
and the duplicate will not do.
In the madness that comes with losing a book
the one that haunts you when you misplace a thing is far worse,
rummage through the familiar places where you hide the keys,
and for days on end, the thing can't be found,
and it doesn't go into oblivion either.
With the passage of time I have been sitting on a mountain
of things lost and never found.

Sushama Karnik
June 17, 2017.
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