Her Waves that Won’t Stop

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November 3, 2013 by bluberie

I looked around in that lobby

And found faces glaring at the depth and surfaces of their souls

At propensities and possibilities of their end

At that juggler called little or no hope showing them many tricks each passing moment

When a woman came out dressed in green and tears

And walked on the edge of her numbed mind




With the ends of her patients’ gown

She wiped her rivulets of cheap kaajal, sweat and salt



In that antechamber of monitors, darkness and beeps

She had felt like an onion cut and sliced into two perfect halves

Quartered with precision by doctors’ drunk over banters and yelps

She had found herself swimming the sea of insignificance

Riding waves of objecthood

A cog in the wheel of medical statistics spinning its own web of scientific wilderness



Her feet had lost their wings of anxiety and were overcome with leaden inertia

I couldn’t hear her flap about anymore

It seemed she lay at the bottom of a sea

In which men empowered by medical science swam like Great Whites

And poked their fearsome, counting muzzles at every school of beautiful goldfish that passed them by

Scattering them, laughing, grabbing their scales

For some good-humoured fun between business



She was an ocean now

An unstoppable ocean

A blue ocean

Of rumbling waves

Of deep breaths

Of questions and feelings

That ran about in many directions and in myriad ways

Like little, naked, street children

Running, chattering, stammering


Yet climbing that terrifying wall to enter the uneven, unseen field beyond

And challenge its rusted, dragon-tailed signboard that laughed aloud:


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