Weekly Poem #3

Here's the Vikram Seth poem I consider to be one of his more memorable works:

Round and Round

After a long and wretched flight That stretched from daylight into night, Where babies wept and tempers shattered And the plane lurched and whiskey splattered Over my plastic food, I came To claim my bags from Baggage Claim Around, the carousel went around The anxious travelers sought and found Their bags, intact or gently battered, But to my foolish eyes what mattered Was a brave suitcase, red and small, That circled round, not mine at all. I knew that bag. It must be hers. We hadnt met in seven years! And as the metal plates squealed and clattered My happy memories chimed and chattered. An old man pulled it of the Claim. My bags appeared: I did the same.  Vikram Seth

 Seth makes this poem very very relatable. Who hasn't been on a flight with the inevitable crying baby and the turbulence that strikes just as the hostess hands you your drink. And then, haggard, tired, worn out, you reach the baggage claim. And then the entire mundane experience turns brilliant. A sign of a blast from the past. A meeting, a friend you hadn't met for seven years. You get excited, images of the past, and what you will say to her start running through your head. You replay your first opening line, where the rest of the evening will go, what all you will discuss, everything that will happen. And then, just like that, the entire idea disappears. An old man, comes out of no where to claim his bag, and takes away all these thoughts with him. With the slight tinge of embarrassment, you too make a hasty exit.

Speaking of exits, ciao!