Poems by Dr.Dalip
Khetarpal
Masked Sans Mask
In this vast cosmos
Of masquerading fair,
I often intuit faces
Wearing a cold blank mask
Thinner than air.
Even my keenest vision
Fails to rip open
This impenetrably transparent mask--
---A primary defense,
A fortified safeguard,
Enforced by overriding social norms
To facilitate one’s survival.
The masks of identity
Forced upon by society
And human psychology
Generates self-alienation
And a strange feeling
Of estrangement.
But self- revelation
Is also, and always
A cruel painful process
Shunned only by a social animal
And not by a real primeval animal.
For, if human skin is stripped,
There’s excruciating pain
But if mask is stripped,
There could be death.
In this masked fair
Of simulacrum
A man intimate
Sometimes appear unknown
And sometimes, intimate strangers,
While even some strangers
Sometimes appear intimate friends.
But strangest it becomes
When even kith and kin
Appear strangers,
When even a wife
And a husband
Appear masked
Before each other__
---Becoming a traitor
Not only to oneself
But also to each other.
So, whither goes
Real open ended human relations!
And concepts of wholeness
Of ecology, divinity
And even science
Are imperceptible
Interrelatedness among humans
Whose further relatedness
To vaster cosmos
then becomes
Naturally inconceivable.
Like thunder
That tears up the clouds
And reveals the sky,
Eruption of plethora
Of pent up feelings
At times suddenly teas up the mask
And in a flash
Reveals the real man….
----but only momentarily.
For, the incredible power
Of re silence of the mask,
It’s inbuilt dynamism
For constructiveness
Quickly repairs itself
And restores it’s original form.
When the real man
Never or seldom surfaces,
Different people
And different mirrors
Would show different pseudo- faces
Of one’s ever changing
Surface of the face
Wherefrom multiple crises
Of personality
Also springs.
A mask that is blended
With the face
Is also an impenetrable fence
To observation and perception
To the fluid interchange
Of thoughts, of feelings
Of emotions.
Love & hate, so,
Affect me not
Camouflage sex and kiss
Give no sensation
A stroke or caress is nothing
But a brush past
Over my insensate skin
Into which warm waves
And vibrations of feelings
Flow not.
I often look over the sky
And see how the invisible God
Is also masked
With an invisible mask
That doubles his invisibility
And sustains His mystery.
I also know that
No one can ever strip
This mask
Nor ever see
His mystique form,
So, can never
Also ever
Improvise any ontological specifications
For Him.
But cannot and
should not
There be any such specifications
For the at least
feeling, thinking, breathing,
Visual and geometrically designed humans?
Paying huge medical bills?
Waste away your scarce savings. Through
These rivers —
all polluting.
Illusion Turned
Real
Their wildest attempt
To merge into each other
Made them so fiercely locked
In the tightest of embrace
That the two
Appear one,
Proving lust so intra-somatic.
When one flesh
Attempted to forcibly blend
With the other flesh
I thought the two thick flesh
Between them hindered
The union of two souls.
But they could not break
The barrier of flesh
For, in just a few minutes
They voluntarily separated
With an abrupt jerk
The face of the one
That exuded intense attraction
Minutes ago
Now, incredibly, exudes
Deep repulsion for the other
Whose earlier heavenly beauty
Turns repulsively ugly now.
The perfect merger minutes ago
Has led to perfect separation now.
Startled, I rubbed my eyes
To ascertain the facts…….
Perhaps, it was an optical illusion
But surely
There was a great lull
After a great storm.
Mutual Exploitation
A woman enters
Into man’s desert
Thinking that
It is a fertile land.
But the water & greenery
Showed by man
Is not to slake her thirst
Nor to provide her comfort
And joy
But to devour her flesh.
The woman on her part
Bears all pangs----physical and mental
As long as she gets shelter,
Protection, commitment (though false)
And sex satisfaction
Or dissatisfaction.
For all these
She has to go to man
And only man.
Though most wise woman
Can foresee this
They still willingly dwell
In the carnal life of man
For they have nowhere else
To go.
Exploitation & greed thus
Come to assume
A universal form
At both ends
And brings man-woman relationship
On equal footing
Resulting in
An equal duping
Though discontentment
Still spurs feminist movement.
Inevitability of
Sin
One remains
A psychological sinner
Until he accepts & does
What the scriptures say.
So, if scriptures are
To make one
Sinner or virtuous
All have to be priests or nuns
To lead a sinless life
And be sacred
But, if this be so
The world would cease
To exist normally
While it still exists normally
When thought blasphemous
Also simmer in the minds
Of most revered
Priests & saints
As they do
In the minds of sinners……
With varying degree.
The Paradox of Love
& Sex
More than successful love
Successful sex
Raises man’s esteem
In the eyes of a woman.
It also breeds confidence
In him
As pride
In her.
Sadly, it is man
Who needs to inculcate
Strength & esteem
Even in sex
To be esteemed
And considered a man
By his partner.
Sadder still is the fate
Of faithful & devoted woman
Who though even unquenched
Is still too forgiving.
She will not expose
Her counterpart’s inefficiency
And will also seldom
Look for greener pastures
Even when unslaked.
Despite man’s impoverished virility
A woman’s reverence for her mate
Seldom wanes_______
Just to keep man in high spirits.
Sex, so, is only an adjustment
For her
While it is a means
Of attaining heavenly bliss
For him.
Strange that
Sex is a passion
For man brutal
And compassion
For woman ideal.
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Dr Dalip Khetarpal launched into
teaching career way back in 1983 by working as a Lecturer in English at Manchanda Delhi
Public College,
Delhi. Then
he joined Technical Education Department of Haryana, and worked in various
capacities, as Lecturer, Senior Lecturer and H .O. D (English) in various
institutes of Haryana. He worked as Dy. Registrar and then as Joint Director
with the Directorate of Technical Education, Haryana, Chandigarh. Thereafter, he was posted as
Training & Placement Officer. Presently, he is working as Director
Principal with Jat Group of Colleges, Kaithal.
Dr Dalip
has also started a new genre in the field of poetry which he would like to
call ‘psycho-psychic flints’. His poems are flints because they emit spark
when they hit the readers’ mind. All these flints can be vividly seen in this
book. He has won laurels for pioneering this new genre in poetry writing. His
criticism and poems are often reflected both in national and international
magazines and journals.
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