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Poem

"You don't belong here!"
They said. 
They doubted the authenticity 
Of my identity. 
Black night bade me come in, 
Provided I sang a song. 
Paroxysms of regret filled my song; 
The monotonous song from my ektara. 
It was a parody of how the sun rises; 
And zoetropically sets. 
To unveil the black night. 

It felt as though the pants had been 
Yanked right off my melancholy. 
The polka dot boxers underneath 
Were memories, regrets and yearnings. 
They were scattered like foreign coins
On the side walk and
Not even beggars could pick them up
For they were worthless in that country, 
Corresponding to nothing but themselves.
To be righteously indignant and selfish, 
Black night taught me. 

My packing paraphernalia converged
In the room where I kept the tune of my
Monotonous song and soundless ektara. 
My host though bright and caring, 
Had hidden many truths from my soul
For fear it would be broken further. 
I pulled the pants of pride up 
My melancholy and gathered my shekels. 
I shuffled off into the next chapter of life,
An instructive detour complete. 
Black night wiped off my invisible tears. 

Black night was a knight in white
But unrighteous in his cause which he
Veneered behind a triad to give it colour. 
Black night bade me come in, 
Provided I sang a song. 
Paroxysms of regret filled my song; 
The monotonous song from my ektara. 
As I struck its string 
Black night nodded his head
As if enjoying the sound of my sorrow. 
Black night deceived me!

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