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..... ...... ........

by June Nandy

I was a precocious boy.

Hiding in the dark,
waiting, listening, smelling,
you dressing up as a day,
light fabric rustling against my skin,
walking softly across the room,
leaving thin, thick, dry, warm
air for me; you always left me
alone, to play with others.

When they abandoned you,
for their nights,
I touched you,
top to bottom, left to right,
carefully, in circular dots.
While you slept,
I made you alive in me,
nights after nights after nights.

It is the same, it will be the same,
your beauty will blindfold me, and
I will wear glasses to hide from you.

I can never be a precocious man.

© June Nandy 2009

Listen to this poem:

June Nandy: I was once thinking, what it'll be like for a boy who has never seen a day, ever, and trying to know it on his braille. While writing, I thought I was that boy, and suddenly I realized how blessed we are who have eyes. But I'm a little mature now. The title is some dots in braille.

June Nandy is a published poet, short story writer, reviewer, ghazal singer, teacher and a translator from Calcutta, India. A post graduate in English Literature and Hindi, she also has a Bachelors in Education, post graduate diploma in Translation Science (Gold Medalist) and a diploma in Public Relations.

Her writings has been published worldwide, in reputed international and national journals, like Taj Mahal Review, Sein und Werden, Femina, Frontier, Poetry Super Highway and other corporate journals.

She once tutored languages in high schools. Presently she is a full-time professional translator. Apart from writing, she sings ghazal and other semi-classical music in television and cultural soirées. She is married and a mommy to a beautiful daughter.

In her spare time, she loves to watch paintings, mostly surreal, and read philosophical and literary works. In her creations, she likes to experiment with all kinds of style and genre, but with one constant underlying essence, and that is to project human beings as the only creatures concerned about what they can be, even at the cost of sabotaging their own existence.