A quest for identity, tribute to a poet

“Diamond Red and Other Poems”, authored by Rahul Ranchan, has been brought out by his

sister, Renee, following his demise. The volume of poems is a testament of his love for literature and the magic of language. In the ‘Author's Note’, Rahul wrote that the book was the result of a deeply personal quest for identity. Excerpts......

Guardians

Their jaundiced eyes/ Have painted me a fraud

The yellow hue sticks to me/ The one who tried

To be a true teacher

I still try/ But they guard my gate/ Filling

prospects with honourless tales

A student they have penetrated/ Changing

his admiration/ To shattered loathing

I tried to make him see/ The light of Blake

The fire of Lawrence/ The floating thoughts of Virginia Woolf/ The ghosts of Coleridge/ I even tried in a functional way/ (in the manner of an unbloomed don)/ The historical foundations.

Well — they poured poison-laced honey/ Into his innocent ears/ (As they say, people believe the worst too easily, too damn easily.)

Now, he even overlooks/ The intricacies of grammar/ He learnt at my side; / All because

I wasn’t a perfect mirror/ Though I showed him/ A near-perfect reflection/ in which grains/ others than guidebook’s/ were found/ Their

poison is very effective/ He hasn’t come

to see me/ To resume the quest.

He had potential/ He has potential/

He has a mind.

Words are the only barrier.

Words he was learning.

Concepts he’d begun

to haltingly understand.

Cultural contexts he’d put in perspective.

All this/ He has now forgotten

All this/ He now chooses to ignore/ And my

heart breaks/ For

he could’ve been a chrysalis/

And maybe even beyond.

They continue/ To guard my gate/ My

wings, an anathema to them/ They, not even

believing/That such I possess.

Meanwhile, I watch/ Meanwhile, I wait/

Meanwhile, I lurk/ Ready to spring

unawares/ To carry the taper/ To whom

will have it/ One may be gone/ (though I

fondly hope he’ll return)/ But others have

braved Hell/ For the light/ However sparse/

After all, they can’t guard the gate forever

Can’t perpetually stoke malice

So — definitively — my day will come again.