Preface
Watching your children grow is the most painful reminder of the breakneck speed
with which time flies. And when this happens, I’m afraid there’s nothing much
one can do. You either fly with it, fly against it, or in my case, write about
it. I have tried to pen down a sonnet on this fleeting but eternal subject. I
know what you must be thinking- that sonnets are antiquated love poems that
basically convey feelings of affection. But going against certain norms is a challenge
I love to undertake. In this verse, you do experience passion, but in an
obsessive and spiteful sort of way. The malice that springs forth from within
is probably a sort of sweet revenge against Time, for daring to run by me so
swiftly. It is also for depriving me of the pleasure of viewing every second of
my beautiful past with relish. And for butchering each and every relaxing
moment with its grave alacrity. In short, this is just my way of ‘Killing
Time’.
The poem
Oh! fleeting beloved, I wish I could
Stop that lightning speed of your fickle flight
Rise above you, unveil your devious hood
Soar and sail, flap and flail, in dizzying height
Engage in a game of devious love; guide
My way around with skill, tease you, please you
Blindfold your wary eyes, play seek and hide
Bare you, scare you, ensnare you, then seize you
In my clasp of conquest feel your sly throat
Clip your flighty wings, cuff your crafty hands
Imprison you, let out a cry of gloat
Stuff you with powdered copse, vacuum out sands
For once the secret of your youth is slayed
No swift moments of forward will be played.
Nargis Natarajan.