I Won't Wipe the White-Board Clean

Let what is, be what is seen...

Don't force me to clean the white-board, my doodles, my imagination,

My math, my trepidation,

My haiku, my not-haiku-

Don't urge me to rub these off...

For, even if it leaves marker-smudges or deep imprints,

I won't.

I won't wipe the white-board clean,

If I hadn't intended to today, before you said you'd drop in.

I won't wipe the white-board clean,

Because it was never on my plan, anyway...

I won't do it, just because you're calling on me today.

I don't want to show you the spic-and-span,

I don't want to show you an empty land,

I want you to see what I've been seeing,

What I've been doing, and not doing,

And saying, and not saying- I want you,

To be allowed, to decide, whether you want

To read my white-board or not...

I want to give you that fair choice.

For caricatures are all fine, but not with good friends,

And not with good people. I'll leave the easel threadbare,

The canvas en forme pleine, the markers in status-quo,

Because that's how things were, and will be once you've gone.

I need you to know that I won't change for you,

And nor will the appearance of my creations.

For that matter, neither will change for anyone.

And change, if it occurs, will be documented truly,

In its gradual progression, not as an abrupt transformation-

These are things I want you to know-

I want you to see my journey from Eidelweiss to Indi-Pop,

Or from Enid Blyton to Jeffrey Archer- with all the rungs

In-between- the soft Hindi music as well as the Agatha Christies.

So, as tempting as it is, when you're about to arrive,

I won't, shan't- wipe my whiteboard clean.

Image Courtesy: https://in.pinterest.com/pin/317714948685377095/

Comments

Clandestine

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