"We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time." (T S Eliot)
"A dark and chanted verse is what I am." (
Forough Farrokhzad)

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

REMITTANCES

It’s a thrill at first –
All is new and strange –
And everyone is friendly
But you can’t yet see the stains.

Then novelty becomes routine
And most people lose interest.
You have to make real friends –
Ones who realize the distance.

And all your resolve
Begins to break down.
It fails completely
When you see a child frown.

The voices from home
Insist that they miss you;
And you must believe it,
Yearning for them to kiss you.

Your family adjusts
To their new way of life.
They don’t say much now
To an absent mother and wife.

The local men misunderstand;
And mistake a smiling face
For something much more comely.
So they try to invade your space.

Their women suspect you –
Jealous of your youth –
And they gradually withdraw,
Becoming spiteful and aloof.

You find consolation
With the women like you –
Genuine laughter and grins –
But, alas, they are so few.

Yet the money is good;
And you hope it is worth
The sacrifice of self
And the scars of rebirth.

As the days become years
You pray that your children can see you
In the house full of your gifts
And horizons that they can now view.

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