Signs of a Separated Man by Anu Lal | A Poem

His eyes look

But they don’t see.
They find neither heaven nor hell.
Their vision is blurred by the ‘what ifs’-
Of an incomplete marriage.
The rumours of a raging volcano,
Plastered on the face,
The rage flowing through the veins unseen,
Making his blood vessels taut,
His belly a pot from overeating,
A fatty liver condition,
An explosion of triglycerides,
Underneath his unkempt skin.
One eye droops from overtime labour.
The eyeball contorted from-
High Blood Pressure: hypertension.

His jokes often border quirky insanity.
Laughters crushing his eyes, tearing up,
Lips laugh with sound and without soul,
Irritability reigns his humours,
Yet it’s controlled, mostly bound by guilt:
The guilt of being the root cause of problems,
By choosing the wrong person,
For the right reasons:
Emotions, stupid emotions, stupid and zealous.
A wrong choice made,
A wrong choice, vindicated by life’s bitter moments,
Spent with the dissatisfied partner.

His eyes, the same ones that look yet not see,
Searching in every woman, a future partner-
Realise in quick succession:
‘Not again,’ another mistake for the same reasons.
Past traumas become life lessons.
New realisations and decisions-
This time, a wrong person shouldn’t be,
In the family circle;
Companionship shouldn’t go wrong.

Repeated usage, years of neglect.
His shirts are worn, so are the jeans,
The jeans do fine, the shirts do fine too,
As what others think about him,
Matters naught any more.
Intervals are longer between haircuts.
Routines mostly hold sway,
Of what little joys that remain in his life.
Although work is strenuous and more,
And he does all without soul,
Money is always short,
As banks claim what remains-
interest for credits and there are lawyers' fees.

Doctor's appointment, skipped many times,
Not because of depression,
Or the ‘losses’.
Of course, had there been, in life,
Someone more understanding,
Had there been someone- a good companion,
‘Life would have been easier’- the heart sighs.

The ‘proceedings’ are ongoing still,
The court calls for many hearings,
The defendant and petitioner are heard,
The petitioner tires, the defendant tires,
Days of ignorance are mounting, while-
The lawyers churn out written drafts,
From the endless reservoir,
Of their unimaginative mind.
The days of court unending,
Calling for appearances in regularity,
Forces the day job at the mercy of the boss,
Who listens empathetic to the hopeless tale,
Sympathises, soothes with kind words,
And ignores the many days of absence from work.

The signs of a separated man,
A dishevelled room will aptly portray,
That the world outside ends up never seeing.
Dust on the floor, the tables and chairs in disarray,
Books in disarray, bedsheet with rancid smell,
Sweat and tears of loneliness,
The worst, are the moments of morning,
Whose purpose, unknown,
Demanding coldly from the separated man,
Why he feels the way he feels,
Relieved to escape from the previous person,
Thankful of ending the constant pain,
And still finding himself surrounded by,
The invisible hollow space of loneliness.
And he wonders what had happened to him.
Trying to make sense of who he is,
Searching in the signs,
Of his own new identity,
Not knowing fully, who he truly is.
Like a baby born into a world,
Seeing and knowing itself in wonder,
A second time of birth,
A new birth parented by the mistakes of life,
Searching, assessing, and gauging,
The signs of a separated man.

 

Anu Lal is an English author from India who lives in Kerala. His works have appeared in several international publications. He writes across genres such as the novel, short fiction, novella, novelette, nonfiction, and poetry. He promotes dialogues among seemingly irreciprocal cultures through his writings.