‘How did you come back from where the heart took you?’

If you are asking me,
I'd say this:

There were no name-boards

or landmarks
no road-sign, no map
for hearts
though contoured
slip through fingers
evade cartographer.
There's a price to pay
for heart:
salute love
and concede reason,
give up choice;
there's no agency.
Did not ask,
did not plan,
do not complain now;
there might have been mirror
but I didn't see;
there are people
and they never asked my name -
so i said 'conclude, as you will'.
There are no auspicious times,

not for heart,

not to my knowledge,
nor my ignorance,
as of now.

[from the collection 'Some texts are made of leaves,' shortlisted for the Gratiaen Award 2011]

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