Moving House For The Fourth Time Poem by Anubhav Tulasi

For the fourth time I've moved house
Even in the fourth place
he keeps sitting tight
His name is Ancient Quietness
Despite the love and cordiality
of his relatives
he has received since birth
he is wild and flippant
His voice bears no whiff of gratitude
He is not water opposite of mercury
whose dimension is ever fixed
who is constant even in the newness
of the fourth place
It is he who is akin to stone
whose heart is a native to the polar region
whose head is erect even in adversity
a piece of steel that rust cannot touch
an imperishable pillar of concrete
He is the proud owner of the vast wealth
which the thief cannot steal
which the seven brothers cannot divide
among themselves
At dead midnight I wake up
What is that sound
I suppose it's a rain
after a long dry spell
I flick the electric switch dead
With the flashing eye of the torch
stuck to the tips of my fingers
I see
in the fourth place
Quietness scatters
sobbing