Habit:F.M.Shinde

F.M.Shinde

Habit

Once you’re used to it

You never afterwards

Feel anything;

Your blood nevermore

Congeals

Nor flows

For wet mud has been slapped

Over all your bones.

Once you’re used to it

Even the sorrow

That visits you

Sometimes, in dreams,

Melts away, embarrassed.

Habit isn’t used to breaking out

in feelings.

Translated by Priya Adarkar