After my vasectomy,
The surgeon’s eyes danced with the shadows of pity
Wondering if she should ask me for the 5th time
If I was sure of the operation, even when it was over.
Wondering if she should re-emphasis
That, this meant that any dreams,
Of having a love child with the love of my life
Was cut off, the same way she had cut those tubes!
For the past 2 years,
My health had been dancing with obscurities
knowing all lights of hospital corridors and walls
And death eluding me, in the tattered scraps of recovery.
When I finally told the love of my life
That I only did the vasectomy
So that her children should not find their way
in another woman’s womb.
She spat at the crazy that reigned in my brain
Looking at my body as a skipping record,
Paranoid that poetry will be the only thing
I can bring to this world.
Believing no reversal would yield results
Like the reversal of her made up mind
Would not allow me a seat in her tired heart!
Sometimes I believe,
I cut off my chances with her
The day I let the surgeon cut my tubes
Maybe I am right, maybe I am wrong