October 28, 2015.

5 in the morning, circle of a moon dropped by me, in bed. Moon looked, me looked; in the quiet of 5; a deep blue sky broomed of stars; a white whole; scientists term it Supermoon; Calmanac marks it as Kojagiri Poornima; me am not a songster to song the moon; reading Gajanan Madhav Muktibodh in New Poetry in Hindi, an anthology, by Lucy Rosenstein; 'Chand ka muh teda hai (Moon's face is crooked), writes Muktibodh; maybe he wrote a half-moon night; 'In the middle of town/midnight-on the walls of pitch black rock....Across the factory enclosure/the minarets of black-faced chimneys--Exclamation marks!/Between the minarets the moon's crooked face,/suspended,/in my heart, apprehension--/now a scream, now wretchedness.....'  A short essay on the poet mentions a work of some 46 poems in a Muktibodh lifetime. Perhaps, haiku poets singing the moon, will just walk away. Me in the morning went over and over Chand ka muh teda hai. Leafed over to Raghuvir Sahay with: 'Hum tho sara ka sara lenge jeevan/'kam se kam' wali baath na hum se kahiye' ('I will have the whole life/dont give me this 'at least' talk). And in Phoot (Rift): Between a Hindu and a Sikh/A Bengali and as Assamese/A backward and a forward:/Rift deeper than these-/between a victim/and a survivor. Muktibodh and Sahay were Marxists but not contained by Marxism. Critic Shamser asserts: 'Muktibodh crossed the romantic limitations of Chayavad, upheld Marxist philosophy, armed himself with the weapons of Experimentalism and advanced Nirala's pure humanism, as a free poet, above all parties and ideologies. Sahay walks by Marxism to add: But Marxism should not be put on top of poetry like a cover. Vidya and me bought the book at Oxford Book Stall on December 5, 2002. There sure is something teda, crooked about the Supermoon over India 2015. By 6, the moon slid away, leaving me with an upset sun.