To Jesse (Who Prefers 30-30 To 20-20) Poem by Subhojit Kar

31 days... a lifetime of burning.
29,30,31 the Gordian Knot at the end of the month.
Just how most lives end, unless propped up
by the Dollar Comfort Pillow,
or the Luscious Grey Lucre.

The start of the innings
and i was mostly a bundle of nerves,
Things mostly out of reach
and shadow-wrestling in the dark.

The stern unsmiling faces around me
with their rulers and their darkcasms,
And the same Carrot-and-Stick policy at home- -
but mostly carrot and hardly any stick.

Ten overs gone and suddenly realisation dawns
Hell! I've got to score some runs....
Nicked and bruised by ALL of your weapons
and yet the summery defeats amidst wintry indifference
Couldn't end me, for in my heart
You implanted the sweet scent of your victory.

And all the stars in the universe
burned brighter in the deeds and valour
of those fiery divas and unruffled gems
who make history as they live.
Sunshine Heroes in the middle ten- -
But it's always in the last ten
that things turn ugly
Plus one accounting for
the sundry bouncers and beamers- -
No-balling is outlawed when it's
the whim of the witches.

My backstabbing (and sometimes) encouraging team
puts the entire onus on my 'fragile' shoulders
And then, maybe, you too smile
in that inscrutable 'one-flick-of the-forefinger' way
(the nemesis of the Gulab Gang Band)

For 'you' are the visionary,
The Seer and the Dreamplanter
Your wondrous color schemes- -
The red-and-gold of youth,
Aquamarine, turquoise, cerulean and azure- -
the forever soothinglories of singsong nature

The eternal game of chess that you play
to knock out men of inaction like me
And color the whiteness of bone
with the purplings of passion.

So, thanks again babe, for creating
and destroying me
In perpetual awe
of your many-splendored forms
But it's upto you now, babe
to help me rip apart
this goddamned Gordian Knot
that so strangle me when month-end approaches