Yet Untitled Lite 021 - A short, sleepy poem of thanks

...to those who have taught me things

Dearest Yet Untitler,

You know me by now - short post = paucity of time. The last time it was because I was shooting. This time…I’m not at liberty to tell, yet. But it’s something exciting, and challenging. It’s an engagement with a very intelligent and competent person who’s pushing me beyond my limits to new places.

A few days into this engagement and I already feel different. I’m working very hard. Every day has been rewarding, but each day I feel I have to fight for my bread. I fall on my bed exhausted each night. It hasn’t been easy finding the time to write this instalment even.

I feel that this has been a real gift - to have been here many times - being moulded via significant encounters with people I respect. How grateful do I feel?

*This* much!

Maybe this poem may convey how full my heart feels, not just for what I’ve been going through in the past days - but for everyone who’s taught me something. For you.

With Bala and M.T Vasudevan Nair on a writing retreat, c. 2004

To you who taught me

This is for all of you 
Who fanned my flame 
If you had not 
It would not have been the same 
Reader, leader, friend or blood
Something about you cleared the mud
You are lenses converging the light 
You are the ones who gifted me sight

I’d know you from a mile away 
I’m baffled to have you this close 
My teachers, you healers 
All you creatures of hope

If ever I have the chance 
To be one of you to another 
May I be that friend, that comrade or brother
That proves me worthy of you all.
May I respond how you responded
To my faint but sincere call. 

My eyelids are anvils. I love you all.

Thanks for listening

V