Saturday, February 14, 2009

The Secret Games

It’s so simple, yet you didn’t understand.
It was always me at the centre of the Universe,
When did I tell you that you matter?
If I had told you ever that I loved you,
Didn’t you understand that I loved to love you?
It was all for me,
For me to fill my needs and stroke my ego.

I needed to be close to my mother,
Because I wanted her when I needed her.
She was always there, I could not remember,
How much I longed to be with her.
How much I missed her,
When she was sleeping with my father.
Why would she sleep with my father?
Or with anyone else?
Wasn’t I destined to be the only one?
If I can’t be then shouldn’t I become like my father?
Wouldn’t she then be the only one for me?
Oh, it was killing. I wanted to hold her.
I wanted to kiss her.
I wanted her touch over my body.
I wanted her to feed me and take good care of me.
She should have been only mine.
But then the world told me that,
You can’t think like this about your mother.
I didn’t understand why.
But anyways I had to be like others.
I wanted to by like my father
And all the powerful adults.
So I stopped longing for my mother.
I missed her so much.

All the longing stayed with me forever.
I grew older, I grew to be a man.
But I always wanted the company of my mother.
I could not get her…it was forbidden.
It would be a sin.

So I searched for my mother.
I searched for her in every woman I slept with.
I searched for her in every woman I loved.
Oh…it was killing.
The longing was killing me.
Where were you, mother?

Then you came along,
In a civilized world with civilized rules,
So I played the love tune.
How splendid it sounded
It was love, or so they called it,
I didn’t know but then I followed suit.
I told you that I loved you.
I told you that I needed you.
I told you that I would always be with you.
It was all so beautiful, it was all so romantic.
The world looked more beautiful then,
The flowers, the sky, the river, the orchard,
All became so meaningful.
We wanted to live together.
We wanted to build our home,
With all the love and care,
That was there in the world.


I should be sorry because I lied to you.
All I wanted was to live.
I wanted to live because that’s what I had to.
I was destined for this desire,
The desire to live. It was in my flesh and blood.
My basic instinct was always to live.
I wanted to make sure that all my needs be fulfilled,
Because then only I would live.
My erose had to be satisfied.
I needed sex, I needed care. I needed a shelter.
I needed to be reassured.
I needed to continue through my progeny.
I wanted to live forever in this Universe.
I was at the centre of the Universe.
I wanted to enhance my self-esteem.
I wanted strokes to my ego.

You were just a tool to fulfill my desires,
To fulfill my needs and to fulfill my eros.
Please don’t blame me.
I just wanted to live forever.

So you see, I wanted my mother and I wanted to live.
I had to play the love game with you,
I had to play the caring game with you.
I had no choice, because that’s what the world has taught me.
But if you ripped open my mind,
You would only see love,
For myself and not for anyone else.
I’m so sorry that I lied to you.
I’m sure you played the same game with me.
The game to fulfill your needs and to stroke your ego.
You wanted your father.
You wanted to be like your mother,
To win over your father.
When you didn’t get him,
Because the world had forbidden.
You wanted your father in me.
The same old touches, the caress,
The loving sweet lullaby, all the care in this world.
You see, you needed to live.
Because you had to live.
Your eros had to be satisfied.

The games are hidden. The secret games.
We couldn’t tell that to each other.
Because we didn’t really know.
We thought we loved each other,
But we didn’t actually do.
But it’s alright in the civilized world.
Secret games all of us play.The secret games!

4 comments:

sujata sengupta said...

WOW Dipankar!! great you write poetry as well...keep them coming please..very honest very true!!

Dipankar Sarkar said...

Thanks a lot for your appreciation...I never really planned these lines...all the lines just came to me spontaneously:-)

Divya Narmada said...

The real poem haunts you... inspires you to note it down...poet is the medium only. thatt's we call it 'shabd bramh'. It is akshar i.e. it never detoriate but trasform from one shape to other, from one pen to other, from one writet to other, from one age to other...alwats be prepared to bridga the gap between shabd bramha the creater & the bramhansh the reader.

poorni said...

Nice and a long read :)