Independent Poem #2 - Prabahan Shakya

Summer Afternoon

“Run Rosie Run!”

The mirror of the barbershop read.

I’m home now

inside the Bellagio casino

In the middle of Lakshyadweep

I’ve got to see Rosie one last time

before she takes a train

to Switzerland.

I probably saw her last when I was 17

when she gifted me a tie for my school farewell.

I remember it all too well

for I had won the sash which read Mr. Hemmingway

Not that I liked his works too much,

but rather the context attached

to calling me that.

Olivia sat in the opposite row facing the red carpet

I think I should go talk to her, I’m wearing the sash anyway

But why is she talking to my mother?

I open the phone to call Ma. 793 unread messages.

Ever since the performance at Ambedkar University

they’ve been asking me to contest elections.

I don’t trust the left, they are too busy

dissenting within their own ranks.

And if not the left, who’s left?

I should type it down in notes.

It sounds smart…

”Hey. Did you know you could buy guns from Ebay?”

“That’s not true…” I looked up from the phone.

It was Mr. Fitzgerald.

 Since when do popular kids talk to me?

Nobody talked to me in school, Only Rosie…”Rosie!”

She’s leaving for Adelaide!

Thank God I reached the airport in time… Is that Salman?

Is that Salman Khan with the face of an elephant?

I heard he’s gone through surgery for his new film.

A remake I hear- “Haathi mere Saathi”

He demanded to play both the human and the beast.

Ram Kishan had informed me, he’s been his assistant for the last five years.

Kishan walked briskly with Salman leading him away from the fans

towards exit no. 423.

Suddenly a man walks past me towards the exit

I called out Mr. Fitzgerald by the name, he didn’t turn.

He kept moving

towards exit no. 423

Why is he walking towards 423?

It’s a gun! It’s a gun in his hands!

I see Rosie waving at me with her luggage.

But I need to save Ram Kishan.

Rosie keeps waving,

She’s wearing the top I bought

in full consideration of her obsession with red

And the fact that she’s going to be a citoyenne in Paris

The red dress would do justice in France.

Liberty, Equality, Fraternity.

How difficult!

How difficult it was for women after the French Revolution,

the Jacobin red smeared the name of revolution,

but what remains important in history

is on that fateful day outside the prison of Bastille

there stood a crowd bloodthirsty for justice.

There stood a crowd.

A crowd?

There stands a crowd..

There stands a crowd at the airport

around a body

smeared with Jacobin red…

“No!”

I woke up in cold sweat.

I sat up.

“Nightmare?” Rosie asked.

She had a book in her hands.

It read ‘Sigmund Freud’.

The clock read 7 pm.

I turned the fan regulator to five.