Poetry by Vijay Nair

Dr. Vijay Nair


Like the bearded old man on a moonlit night:
A worn-out life in worn-out clothes
 Standing on a swaying bridge
Singing a soul-stirring song
For an audience of one.

Like the young girl cycling at dawn
Smiling like a wingless angel
In the slowly disappearing mist
With her beautiful hair
Searching for freedom in the breeze.

Like the tired woman in the paddy field
Silhouetted against the spreading glow
Of an unwilling setting sun:
Returning home
Her gait is enshrined.

November in Aleppo

The shots zoom in from everywhere
Strokes of crimson brush the marble
The bombs, like blessings,drop from the air

Here, everyone has his or her own
Version of what they call the truth
Like in Kurosawa's Rashomon

In this city of faiths and antiquity
History is being unmade
In the sound and light reality show on TV

And no one knows or cares to know
Who has buried whom when minds collapse
Like the monuments of Aleppo.