NANDINI SAHU, INDIA

Nandini Sahu

Prof. Nandini Sahu, Amazon’s best-selling author 2022, Professor of English and Former Director, School of Foreign Languages, IGNOU, New Delhi, India, is an established Indian English poet, creative writer and folklorist. She is the author/editor of twenty books. She is the recipient of the Literary Award/Gold Medal from the hon’ble Vice President of India for her contribution to English Studies. Her areas of research interest cover New Literatures, Critical Theory, Folklore and Culture Studies, Children’s Literature and American Literature. More about her on : www.kavinandini.blogspot.in, www.nandinisahu.in .

 

 

HALF OF HER LOVERS ARE HALF THE WORLD AWAY

 

Men who loved their wives and those who did not

all fell in love with her, when she was simply out and about in the world.

Her ‘men’ knew, she was the brimming vessel with an eternal capacity to pour.

Well, she didn’t think much about love,

neither of the ‘safe’ love-loves, nor of any loves in the conflict zone.

 

Her dry sardonic wit made them only fall in love more with rationality.

Lost in time, with the audacity of hope, she was found in eternity;

turning her wounds into wisdom, an expert at the law of diminishing marginal utility!

She wanted to be forgotten from their collective memory

when she had to wait to watch the slippers of couples in front of the Taj

while the couples were clicking away ‘couple-pics’ to glory.

 

Her ‘men’ every so often left her drained, high and dry.

Some other times they cared to say a proper goodbye.

In any case, she didn’t judge them, she just did low lie.

 

Her self-introspection and serious reflection were a caricature of living-loving.

Her faith was bigger than fears with time’s intoxicants in her hands.

There was no wind in there—just air to protect her ‘men’ from fading.

 

Above her outer skin, there were wordless walls

with a fistful of sky.

With time, invariably,

her men turned into distant memories.

 

She wrote the stories of many a life, but

her own story lay buried at someplace in a vault.

One day she lost the keys to that treasury that she had carefully concealed.

 

She had that habit— save the best for the last.

But much cared-for-stuff from her wardrobe were always lost.

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