|ASOK KUMAR CHANDAN
The VIP will move along
and a lotus will bloom
wherever he will set his foot.
The obedients will bow down
and the VIP will start climbing the stairs, his robe
And the pigmies will watch agape.
Never have they wished for the moon.
Once the VIP laughs
the courtiers will start to echo
in roaring laughter.
The janitor will open the door.
The messenger will read out
And, then, His Highness, the VIP will scribble
the destiny of the pigmies.
The VIP will talk with the wallclock.
He will stretch his countless hands
in a sea of emptiness
and hover over the pigmies' heads
like a weird scarecrow.
Embracing his own ghost
the VIP will climb down the stairs
and, entering his bed chamber,
will enquire of his wife
her months and days.
The VIP will gaze at his own face
in the mirror of darkness
and undress :
he will stand stark naked.
No courtier around,
he will count his own breath.
Seeing him as a headless trunk,
his own child will get startled.
His wife will pat the child, mumbling :
"Nothing else, man, man".
Rabindra K Swain
[ Note : VIP : Very Important Person.]