By Vijay Kumar
Ruins speak to me
I’m not sure
If I fell for them first,
Or them for me
Somewhere, somehow
Way back, I suppose
It started at a ruin,
Next to a tea-house
As I sat, musing
Over my cup of tea
My eyes gazed lazily over
At the waters before me
The Lily pods, the hyacinth, birds and the bees
And an occasional frog croaking for she
My gaze followed a magpie,
As it chased a beetle
Gliding by birch and maple,
Landed past a thistle
Past the treetops, a sight,
My look it held
The regal frame of a building,
Cast almost a spell
My interest aroused,
I settled for the tea
That desolate structure,
Seemed to beckon to me
A summer afternoon t’was,
The sun overhead
The way to the structure,
I cautiously tread
The overgrowth thwarted
And barriers it formed
As sentinels, so no invader,
Its bastions storm
Weaving, avoiding the sentinels,
I advanced
To step into the structure,
For it now held me in a trance
Columns and arches
Colonnades and crests
I walked under, and past
To step into its breast
The silence of summer,
Broken by the twitter of birds
The building was huge,
I moved through the refuge
Sections had fallen,
And much lost
Yet others seemed lived in,
Not long back in use
Tall doorways open,
The grand stairway forgotten
The carpets molding,
And woodwork rotting
Not a movement, no noises
No people, nor voices
The ceilings were high,
Chandeliers low, and ageing rafters
Tapestries with large tears,
Tall paintings,
Still framed in the gilting
French windows,
Tasseled drapes with beautiful swags
I could almost hear,
The Waltzes to Mozart and Jazz
My footfall resonated
As I walked through the rooms
Could hear me breathe,
In the blanket of gloom
I entered a tall doorway,
With fancy handle-sets
Regency chairs, long dining table,
Which many could sit
Dining table with tableware,
Were all set for a meal
I took in the scene,
Pervading illusory smells of oyster and veal
Paint peeling, cobwebs,
Deep dust all around
It looked a thriving ship,
Had run aground
I stood in the hall,
A beam of sunlight on the floor
Like a spotlight, in a theatre,
A performer for encore
Drawn to the bright patch,
I stepped gingerly ahead
The beam, a streaming Lumiere,
Drew me instead
A step into bright-light,
My arms by my sides,
My face upturned and alit
That’s when I was struck
With visions in my head,
And the place came alive
Voices, noises, mirth and merry laughter
Cursing, and snapping, grunts from cellars and parlour
It was a whirl,
A vortex I was in
Trying to hold onto something
To hang in
Eventually,
It slowed and stopped
My head I held fast,
With a sense that I was lost
A voice spoke,
Then two, three, then many
All asked at once
“What took you so long”?
They said I was special,
I could hear them speak
For ordained it was,
That I would reveal
Who they were and what befell
What brought this, to dwell
The tales of ruins,
And people within
They spoke to me for long,
Of thick and of thin
Of palace affairs,
Of soldiers and bravery
Politics and fame
Romances run aflame
Of evil conspirators
Who’d put shamam to shame
And of power, intrigue
Murderous greed
Now everywhere I go,
To ruins I’m drawn
Like a moth to fire
Held under a begiuling charm
The ruins still speak,
I still listen
Now, I can’t handle the woes,
Their searing grief
All I now crave,
Is a happy song
And a deep quiet within
…a quiet within
…a quiet within
By Vijay Kumar
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