The Thought of Knowing Home | Mallikarjun Pandya

THE FOLLOWING POEM WAS SELECTED IN WINGWORD POETRY PRIZE 2023 LONGLIST.

And I no longer look for you.

I no longer look for you in form,

with your white walls coated

in a fading paint of green,

or linens hanging on windows

that let the sunlight seep in.

And I no longer look for you,

in the alleys of restaurants and bars;

in the old buildings,

and the million stories that live within,

or the one's outside,

flashing past me on this river

of concrete.

and I never looked for you in churches,

in temples, in mosques,

in idols, or the images of the gods

and I no longer look for you in shapes -

in flights, in cars, in bikes

arriving and leaving from the coffee shops,

and I no longer look for you there,

when I hear her sing

nor when she leaves,

and the air is vacant for a moment,

till a new voice fills,

and even in that moment vacant -

I do not look for you.

I do not imagine you as I wake,

I do not remember you as I sleep,

I do not recall you in my dreams -

I do not dream of you, and if I do,

I remind myself that you are a dream,

and as

I no longer look for you,

the winds bring you to me -

and I find you in the whiff off an idli

from a roadside store,

and I find you in the scent

a story flashing past me wore,

and I find you

when the earth smells of the earth,

and I find you

when someone laughs a little hoarse.

And as I no longer look for you

in shapes or in forms,

I find you,

and I smile at the thought of knowing home.