{"id":87,"date":"2013-08-12T03:44:02","date_gmt":"2013-08-12T03:44:02","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/manjithanda.com\/?p=87"},"modified":"2013-08-12T03:55:16","modified_gmt":"2013-08-12T03:55:16","slug":"loneliness","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/manjithanda.com\/?p=87","title":{"rendered":"Loneliness"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n\t\"Self-Portrait\"<\/a>\n<\/div>\n
\n\t \n<\/div>\n
\n\tSunless morn\n<\/div>\n
\n\ttwo cups of tea\n<\/div>\n
\n\tLoneliness pours one on its own.\n<\/div>\n
\n\t \n<\/div>\n
\n\tThe month of November\n<\/div>\n
\n\tLoneliness drops from above\n<\/div>\n
\n\tSnow shower!
\n\t \n<\/div>\n
\n\tI make eggs \n<\/div>\n
\n\twhisk well, and pour in a hot pan\n<\/div>\n
\n\tLoneliness coagulates.
\n\t \n<\/div>\n
\n\tI go out for a run\n<\/div>\n
\n\tLoneliness follows\n<\/div>\n
\n\tSometimes I win, sometimes, you guess'd right, that one.
\n\t \n<\/div>\n
\n\tI make curry
\n\tChop, chop, stir, stir\n<\/div>\n
\n\tSpicy spicy Loneliness.
\n\t \n<\/div>\n
\n\tI begin to clean and broom\n<\/div>\n
\n\tSmart loneliness!\n<\/div>\n
\n\tEscapes my old vacuum.
\n\t \n<\/div>\n
\n\tWe go out for a get-together\n<\/div>\n
\n\tJokes are shared, silly ones\n<\/div>\n
\n\tWe laugh, Loneliness laughs harder.
\n\t \n<\/div>\n
\n\tI plant a seed\n<\/div>\n
\n\tLoneliness flowers\n<\/div>\n
\n\twithin three weeks.\n<\/div>\n
\n\t \n<\/div>\n
\n\tI begin to paint\n<\/div>\n
\n\tBehind every structure a shadow quaint\n<\/div>\n
\n\tLoneliness.\n<\/div>\n
\n\t \n<\/div>\n
\n\tI drive to the mall\n<\/div>\n
\n\tLoneliness races with me\n<\/div>\n
\n\tTotally uncalled.
\n\t \n<\/div>\n
\n\tFamily time\n<\/div>\n
\n\twarmth flows\n<\/div>\n
\n\tLoneliness sulks.
\n\t \n<\/div>\n
\n\tYou kiss me\n<\/div>\n
\n\tthe sweetest nectar\n<\/div>\n
\n\tI look around, nowhere to be found\n<\/div>\n
\n\tLoneliness.
\n\t \n<\/div>\n
\n\tBut I know very well\n<\/div>\n
\n\tit is a keeper\n<\/div>\n
\n\tNot a betrayer\n<\/div>\n
\n\tLoneliness.
\n\t \n<\/div>\n
\n\t(How does one feel migrating to a new country\/culture\/world? Part of the diaspora, this poem is my jottings of the experience. Of migrating from India to Canada)\n<\/div>\n
\n\t \n<\/div>\n
\n\tThe sketch is done with pencil on a  9″x11″ hot pressed paper. Never did a self portrait ever. I found it too narcissistic. If there is any such thing as that. Too, I mean. I wanted to do some artwork with this autobiographical poem and could come up with nothing better than a self portrait. In my defense most of the other artistic activities are self-congratulatory. So I thought why not? I almost scratched my head while filling in hair. How quirky is that? How deeply can one be aware of drawing one's own self? At the same time, mostly, when I was unaware, it just felt like drawing the 'other'.The sketch is not up to the mark, which poses the question of how faithfully can we do self portrayal in the first place?\n<\/div>\n
\n\t \n<\/div>\n
\n\t \n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  Sunless morn two cups of tea Loneliness pours one on its own.   The month of November Loneliness drops from above Snow shower!   I make eggs  whisk well, and pour in a hot pan Loneliness coagulates.   I go out for a run Loneliness follows Sometimes I win, sometimes, you guess'd right, that one.   I make curry Chop, chop, stir, stir Spicy spicy Loneliness.   I begin to clean and broom Smart loneliness! Escapes my old vacuum….<\/p>\n

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