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Poem

Sachin Ketkar

Excerpts from Jarasandha\'s Blog

(i)

When Bhima seized me by my legs
In his merciless iron clutches
I thought he was going to dispatch me
He ripped me in half instead
From head to toe
Like Dante did to the Prophet
In his Inferno.
He simply tore me in two.

It was on the advice
Of that Dark Charlatan
That Bhima flung my two halves
In opposite directions
So that they would never ever
Be one again.

He is the one responsible
For my demerger

The Pandavas’ sala
That Ranchod

(ii)

The two halves of my being
The two halves that would never unite
Are still very much alive
Pulsating with life
Because someone daily reminds me
That I am already dead

(iii)

I am lying just like that
In Hell\'s cheap hospital
The left half of my body
On my right
The right side of my body
On my left
The left side on my right side
The right on my left
My left ball on my right side
The right ball on my left
The left half of my brain
On my right
The right half of my brain
On my left

This is the reason why
Perhaps
I speak the language of the Right
With those on the Left
The language of the Left
With those on the Right

My left right language
Converge from opposite directions
Uttering the interminable throbbing dialect
Of suffering

Some people prefer
To call it poetry or something

(iv)

Bhima tossed away
One half of my soul
Into the fields
The other tumbled
Into a cyber café

Eliot’s ghost haunts
One part of my being
The other one intones
The Anubhavamruta

(v)

I don\'t have one undivided tongue
I have two half tongues instead

My Gujarati tongue craves
The touch of Marathi
My Marathi tongue pines
For Gujarati

(vi)

I order desi liquor
In the English wine shop
In the desi shop
It\'s the English liquor that I order

(vii)

In fact
Ardhanarishwar
And Narsimha are my forefathers
But they are imaginary
I am real

(viii)

Look, this is my map

One half of my body is saffron
The other is green
Both facing away from each other

There is a historical white strip
Of the Partition
Which cements my both parts

There is also a sham
Of a heart
With twenty-four spokes
Defunct
But very much alive

(ix)

In fact, I wanted to go to heaven
In the flesh
One half of my body
Did actually manage to go there
But the other half
Missed the flight

(x)

Frequently
The halved organs from one half of my body
Arrange a limited overs cricket match
With the organs of the other half

Obviously
My soul plays the umpire

Look, here is an appeal
For run out
I signal
For the third umpire

(xi)

Only in you
Is this Jarasandha
Complete

So take me deep down
Forever
Conclusively end
My two separate lives
My two separate deaths

EXCERPTS FROM JARASANDHA\'S BLOG

Close

Excerpts from Jarasandha\'s Blog

(i)

When Bhima seized me by my legs
In his merciless iron clutches
I thought he was going to dispatch me
He ripped me in half instead
From head to toe
Like Dante did to the Prophet
In his Inferno.
He simply tore me in two.

It was on the advice
Of that Dark Charlatan
That Bhima flung my two halves
In opposite directions
So that they would never ever
Be one again.

He is the one responsible
For my demerger

The Pandavas’ sala
That Ranchod

(ii)

The two halves of my being
The two halves that would never unite
Are still very much alive
Pulsating with life
Because someone daily reminds me
That I am already dead

(iii)

I am lying just like that
In Hell\'s cheap hospital
The left half of my body
On my right
The right side of my body
On my left
The left side on my right side
The right on my left
My left ball on my right side
The right ball on my left
The left half of my brain
On my right
The right half of my brain
On my left

This is the reason why
Perhaps
I speak the language of the Right
With those on the Left
The language of the Left
With those on the Right

My left right language
Converge from opposite directions
Uttering the interminable throbbing dialect
Of suffering

Some people prefer
To call it poetry or something

(iv)

Bhima tossed away
One half of my soul
Into the fields
The other tumbled
Into a cyber café

Eliot’s ghost haunts
One part of my being
The other one intones
The Anubhavamruta

(v)

I don\'t have one undivided tongue
I have two half tongues instead

My Gujarati tongue craves
The touch of Marathi
My Marathi tongue pines
For Gujarati

(vi)

I order desi liquor
In the English wine shop
In the desi shop
It\'s the English liquor that I order

(vii)

In fact
Ardhanarishwar
And Narsimha are my forefathers
But they are imaginary
I am real

(viii)

Look, this is my map

One half of my body is saffron
The other is green
Both facing away from each other

There is a historical white strip
Of the Partition
Which cements my both parts

There is also a sham
Of a heart
With twenty-four spokes
Defunct
But very much alive

(ix)

In fact, I wanted to go to heaven
In the flesh
One half of my body
Did actually manage to go there
But the other half
Missed the flight

(x)

Frequently
The halved organs from one half of my body
Arrange a limited overs cricket match
With the organs of the other half

Obviously
My soul plays the umpire

Look, here is an appeal
For run out
I signal
For the third umpire

(xi)

Only in you
Is this Jarasandha
Complete

So take me deep down
Forever
Conclusively end
My two separate lives
My two separate deaths

Excerpts from Jarasandha\'s Blog

(i)

When Bhima seized me by my legs
In his merciless iron clutches
I thought he was going to dispatch me
He ripped me in half instead
From head to toe
Like Dante did to the Prophet
In his Inferno.
He simply tore me in two.

It was on the advice
Of that Dark Charlatan
That Bhima flung my two halves
In opposite directions
So that they would never ever
Be one again.

He is the one responsible
For my demerger

The Pandavas’ sala
That Ranchod

(ii)

The two halves of my being
The two halves that would never unite
Are still very much alive
Pulsating with life
Because someone daily reminds me
That I am already dead

(iii)

I am lying just like that
In Hell\'s cheap hospital
The left half of my body
On my right
The right side of my body
On my left
The left side on my right side
The right on my left
My left ball on my right side
The right ball on my left
The left half of my brain
On my right
The right half of my brain
On my left

This is the reason why
Perhaps
I speak the language of the Right
With those on the Left
The language of the Left
With those on the Right

My left right language
Converge from opposite directions
Uttering the interminable throbbing dialect
Of suffering

Some people prefer
To call it poetry or something

(iv)

Bhima tossed away
One half of my soul
Into the fields
The other tumbled
Into a cyber café

Eliot’s ghost haunts
One part of my being
The other one intones
The Anubhavamruta

(v)

I don\'t have one undivided tongue
I have two half tongues instead

My Gujarati tongue craves
The touch of Marathi
My Marathi tongue pines
For Gujarati

(vi)

I order desi liquor
In the English wine shop
In the desi shop
It\'s the English liquor that I order

(vii)

In fact
Ardhanarishwar
And Narsimha are my forefathers
But they are imaginary
I am real

(viii)

Look, this is my map

One half of my body is saffron
The other is green
Both facing away from each other

There is a historical white strip
Of the Partition
Which cements my both parts

There is also a sham
Of a heart
With twenty-four spokes
Defunct
But very much alive

(ix)

In fact, I wanted to go to heaven
In the flesh
One half of my body
Did actually manage to go there
But the other half
Missed the flight

(x)

Frequently
The halved organs from one half of my body
Arrange a limited overs cricket match
With the organs of the other half

Obviously
My soul plays the umpire

Look, here is an appeal
For run out
I signal
For the third umpire

(xi)

Only in you
Is this Jarasandha
Complete

So take me deep down
Forever
Conclusively end
My two separate lives
My two separate deaths
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