Poem by a Fluke

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Just the other day people from the local television company came to interview me about my book, my writing hobby, my current project and so on, and I thought it was in my interest to co-operate. In time they started taking snaps of my book, my blog, of me in sitting-and-reading pose, ambling about a lawn. If they had their way they would have made me slog much longer than I was prepared for, but finally I told them to wind up. Before packing up, the sweet and smiling camera person insisted on filming me in my writing pose and her suggestion had something ineluctable about it. In perfect obedience I sat on a concrete beside the flag post there and went about scribbling a few lines, the mock writings. A moment gone, my pen obliged me and I had a poem there. Here you are--it's my poem by a fluke. I don't know if it is making any sense, even though it was not intended to convey anything profound.

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Presenting new things in old format
And old things in new...
That's my business
I care about.

So, why should I relent
And stop changing the labels
If it's job so very simple
And lovely as that?

When new passion arrives unnoticed
or notified but not heeded
I wake up to its rhymes of footfalls
Tapping my steps--tak-tham-tak.

Make no mistake
That's no dance of mine
That's what I call my poem
My poetry is that all about.
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By
A. N. Nanda
Bhubaneswar
18-12-2007
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