From Dawn till Dusk

         K Radhakumar

A late riser, I always miss
The metamorphosis of dawn into morning.
I am getting old
And it dawns on me now
I do miss much.
There is no excuse for it
There is no excuse for it.
The end is not conceived
In the womb of the beginning.
No large, spreading roots for the plant
What a tragedy!
It is ready to fall anytime
Through high blood pressure and heart trouble.
Life does not hold, does not hold
A magnetic fascination for me.

Nothing is news to me
But morning paper over a cup of tea!
Waking up with a terrible hangover
A cup of tea
A pack of cigarettes…
Where is the lighter?
It must be in the bedside table.
I wake up late
Read the morning paper
Take a cup of tea
Light a cigarette –
This is a part of my daily routine.
I wonder if I should go to the office today.
What is this job
With no scope for career mobility?
I am not going to end my life
In that hole;
I have to hunt for a steady job.

Life is boring
I do things in the same way
I have been doing in the last ten years.
There is nothing new in my evenings
It is whisky and soda and cigarette after cigarette
It is whisky and soda and cigarette after cigarette.
Why do not I wake to a clear dawn
And see how it shows
The brevity of human life?
A smile at crack of dawn
Could herald a new approach
Of our long journey into night
Through bright and sunny days.