Point A

Point A prose poem

If I were to be born to you, point B… I’ll take my first breath and the sound you’ll hear will be a war cry. And I’ll be up on my feet before the cord is cut. I will slice, with some sadness, the first of our many links, with a sword made from sunshine. But no matter where, the path from A to you will always be a straight line.

And since I would have learned to fight while still in your womb, I would step out in warrior gear. Of course being my mother you’d also want me to be civilized but we must heed Gandhi for when he was asked what he thought of western civilization, he said it would be a very good idea.

I’ll sculpt a whole new universe with my very hands and I hope that’ll make you a proud mom. It will be difficult but not impossible, since I would already know the solar system like the back of my hands. And I’ll take life as my sparring partner so that no matter how hard he hits me, he’ll always help me up. And I am glad that the world is made of sugar, cause I am going to taste a lot of blood, even my own; and I’ve heard, it’s salty and metallic.

Yes, we will miss my childhood birthdays, but then there are children out there who do not even know the day of their birth. I’ll celebrate my birthdays with theirs. And I’ll miss those childhood games but I’ll be a grand chess-master by the time children learn to say the alphabet C so that I will never ever be used as a pawn. And you might miss tucking me into bed and asking me to not be afraid of the monsters that are afraid of the light, but don’t you let that bother you, for I shall be the warrior of light, and darkness shall tremble in front of me, and children everywhere will sleep under the stars with their stomachs full and their hearts light.

As for what will I do with my life? Either I will sniff out trouble or trouble will smoke me out and in the breaks between my battles I will read and maybe write some poetry, so that I may remember to stay human, for the pain around will spill out by the ocean loads even if I was to take every single hand and stretch it from here to the end of time.

And I will think of you every time it rains. So will you please always keep some chocolates with you and give them to some kids each time it rains either outside or inside? And the first time I bleed, I won’t look around for a superman, but I will look for you, supermom, even if for a moment, I promise you. But I know you’ll not be worried cause by then you would have turned into the heart of a tiger. So I won’t apologize to you even though others might feel I have done you wrong, because my eyes will be shining, my heart will be singing, and my voice will be heard.

And maybe one day I’ll fall in love or maybe I won’t, but there will be no prom night, not in this life, not in our universe. For I will forever sleep with a sword by my side and I will one day sleep forever by the sword but you will not shed tears. I may have come in crying but I will go away laughing and you will bade me farewell with a smile. Yes?

And whenever I am tired or disappointed or worse defeated, I will stand on a beach and see the ocean kiss the shore, and I will think of what you once said to a room full of eager ears, “that there will be days like this.” And I will look at the blisters and the bruises, and I will thank those who gave them to me for the scars will be my medals and I will wear them proudly.

Till the day will come when I will rule this universe and whenever someone will come up to me and tell me how great I am, I will stop them and tell them, that if they truly want to know greatness, then they really ought to meet my mother.

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Saurin Desai

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Saurin Desai’s first love led to a roaring affair that's ongoing now since nearly 30 years. At the innocent age of 8 he met a comic book that whacked him on the head (pun intended) and he fell heels-over-head, literally (pun not intended). But being commitment-phobic, he had a couple of dalliances: with engineering, jobs & businesses, before succumbing to the seduction of the writer's life and giving up everything to become lazier than he ever was. Through all of this he continued to rendezvous with poetry. And after one very, very, long pregnant pause, the poems that had owned him all these years recently agreed to stop possessing him and start haunting the world. And, here we are..."Solitude and Other Obsessions"
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Nikita Mehendiratta
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Amazing read. Thoroughly Enjoyed. Thanks to your mother as last line says. 🙂

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