When I am alone

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LITERARY CORNER 

A society that has lost its poets is dead. Poets see what our crude pragmatism fails to notice. Even though we keep publishing essays, commentaries, reports and reviews, we believe that a forum without poetic sensibilities cannot take us to a higher level of consciousness. Here is a wonderful poem–simple, yet immensely illuminating. Let the readers enter its soul. 

 Padma Sachdev
Padma Sachdev

 

              Transit Camp 

                        Padma Sachdev

                 When I am alone

                  at home or in the studio

                  my destiny

                   comes and stands by my side

                  beckons to me

                   softly, insidiously

                   lightens the load of my loneliness.

                   It has no habitation

                   yet I am greedy to go with it.

                   My longing begins to break bonds.

                   Then 

                    some cowardly

                    sense of security

                    holds me back

                    in this place 

                    which once I  thought 

                     a transit camp.  

Source : Translated from Dogri by Iqbal Masud 

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