Where Will You Be
Photo: Karan Madhok
‘Where will you be then? / In books and magazines, where history is mass produced? / In your mind, trapped by your conscience, guilty of slumber?’
Where will you be, when it's all over?
When the seasons change, and the reasons falter.
Don't fool yourself. Change it will.
The beginning of a passable moment is often mistaken to be an epoch.
And those pass too.
Where will you be then?
In books and magazines, where history is mass produced?
In your mind, trapped by your conscience, guilty of slumber?
Or in streetside conversations, that will either vent and insult, or glorify aimlessly?
And what will you tell the progeny?
But try and remember, with caution, for memory is a double-edged sword.
So do recollect, the people.
Those living;
right in the centre of the circus, those flying down from the swings and those standing outside at the ticket counters
but most importantly those, who chose to pass by.
Not out of fear or disinterest, but simply because they chose different battles.
Burdens too common, too morose to seek justification for.
If these everyday battles were monuments, even the flowers wouldn't bloom to adore them.
Hunting for jobs, paying the bills, stealing love from the stranger.
Seeking a fair shot at survival.
To be able to wake up with a smile, and not deal with the instant thought of heading to work on an empty stomach
To kiss and caress with intention, not to hide the sunken eyes and the shattered hopes.
To come back home, satisfied. And if the stars shine brighter, allow a song from the 60s, in Rafi's voice preferably, to soothe the ache.
Don't forget the people.
Not that they expect you to carry them along anymore. Habitual.
Their Gods dwell in the assurance of their mothers' laps,
In the oneness of dining with their neighbours,
In the carefreeness of lying with street dogs,
And in the calmness of embracing their humble lovers.
They build their own hopes and wash the grime off their hands themselves.
And in this glorious tale of survival, talk about yourself. And what role you played in battles the coming generations will debate and condemn.
Speak of this universe, that exists right at the centre of our world, caught amidst the blaring TVs and the shrill beacons,
But thrives far far away in relevance.
***
Lesley Simeon is a Bangalore-based writer and aspiring journalist with firm interests in history, culture, politics, film, theatre and all things kitsch (the ironic one, of course). Prefers Bollywood, coffee and dogs for any season, any reason, especially at nights through dawn when he finds his creative juices at their mightiest high. He takes great pride in publishing his work under a pen name in an earnest attempt at enigma. You can find him on Instagram: @lesley_amol.
