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Hairfall And Photocopies
You will chance upon
The secret black and white codes
Of my being
Lying anywhere
In the bedroom, or the kitchen or in the lavatory
In the classroom, in the train compartment
Between the keys of a keyboard
On the mouse-pad
In the staffroom, in the caves on the moon
In the snake hole
In our house, in their house
In his house, in her house
In my home, in your home
In the gaps between the words
Among the pages of a book
That makes you scratch your head
Anywhere just anywhere
Obviously I know
Where this road leads
But don't forget
That in my every hair
Is my DNA
Or whatever
After thousands of years
In some rocks
A scientist will discover
My fossilised hair
He can generate
Yet more photocopies of me.
poem
by
Sachin Ketkar
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