Skip to main content

Telephone conversation - Wole Soyinka

The price seemed reasonable, location
Indifferent. The landlady swore she lived
Off premises. Nothing remained
But self-confession. "Madam" , I warned,
"I hate a wasted journey - I am African."
Silence. Silenced transmission of pressurized good-breeding. Voice, when it came,
Lipstick coated, long gold-rolled
Cigarette-holder pipped. Caught I was, foully.
"HOW DARK?"...I had not misheard...."ARE YOU LIGHT OR VERY DARK?" Button B. Button A. Stench
Of rancid breath of public hide-and-speak.
Red booth. Red pillar-box. Red double-tiered
Omnibus squelching tar.
It was real! Shamed
By ill-mannered silence, surrender
Pushed dumbfoundment to beg simplification.
Considerate she was, varying the emphasis-
"ARE YOU DARK? OR VERY LIGHT" Revelation came
"You mean- like plain or milk chocolate?"
Her accent was clinical, crushing in its light
Impersonality. Rapidly, wave-length adjusted
I chose. "West African sepia"_ and as afterthought.
"Down in my passport." Silence for spectroscopic
Flight of fancy, till truthfulness chaged her accent
Hard on the mouthpiece "WHAT'S THAT?" conceding "DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS." "Like brunette."
"THAT'S DARK, ISN'T IT?"
"Not altogether.
Facially, I am brunette, but madam you should see the rest of me. Palm of my hand, soles of my feet.
Are a peroxide blonde. Friction, caused-
Foolishly madam- by sitting down, has turned
My bottom raven black- One moment madam! - sensing
Her receiver rearing on the thunderclap
About my ears- "Madam," I pleaded, "wouldn't you rather
See for yourself?"


Telephone conversation is a poem by Wole Soyinka. It is a poem on racism.

The poem starts with one African man calling to white woman from red telephone booth. He is in need of room. He says that price was reasonable and place was also good. But landlady wanted to know about the man. He says that he is African; and then sudden silence takes place. When the lady speaks poet can see lady lipstick coated and long gold rolled cigarette holder piped. She asks how dark are you? Light or very dark? This question shocks the African man. He doubts if it is dream or not? He sees around. The red booth, red pillar box, omnibus all were real. Lady again asks. The man answers that he is West African sepia written in passport. Lady says that it is dark. Isn't it? The man says that you should look you should see rest of me. The lady seemed to put phone. The man lastly says that "wouldn't you rather see for yourself?"

So this poem tells about how black people face insult and difficulties in white men's country.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Old Woman - Joseph Campbell

'The Old Woman' is simple and short poem by Joseph Campbell where he compares old woman with different things and describes her. The poem has three stanzas. .In  the first stanza , the poet compares the old lady with the white candle. White colour is symbol of peace and candle is symbol of light. The old woman is like white candle. She is in peace and she gives other people light by his experiences. She is able to show right path who need that. In the second  stanza, the poet compares the old lady with the spent radiance of the winter's sun. It refers old woman's long life. But now she is old like winter's sun, but she has gathered a wide experience of life. Poet writes, "A woman with her travail done" In last stanza, the poet compares the old woman with the water under the ruined mill. The water is still under the ruined mill and by comparing this poet writes about the old lady that her all sons has gone, they do not live with her. But she has all the
20 comments
Read more

To the Indians who died in South Africa - T.S. Eliot

A man's destination is his own village,  His own fire, and his wife's cooking;  To sit in front of his own door at sunset  And see his grandson, and his neighbour's grandson  Playing in the dust together.  Scarred but secure, he has many memories  Which return at the hour of conversation,  (The warm or the cool hour, according to the climate)  Of foreign men, who fought in foreign places,  Foreign to each other.  A man's destination is not his destiny,  Every country is home to one man  And exile to another. Where a man dies bravely  At one with his destiny, that soil is his.  Let his village remember.  This was not your land, or ours: but a village in the Midlands,  And one in the Five Rivers, may have the same graveyard.  Let those who go home tell the same story of you:  Of action with a common purpose, action  None the less fruitful if neither you nor we  Know, until the judgement after death,  What is the fruit of action.  This poem is by T.S
6 comments
Read more

Joy and woe woven are fine - William Blake

In this short poem William Blake wants to give message that joy and grief, both are part of life and both are good. He says joy and woe are woven fine. Woven means things which are attached to each other. Both happiness and grief are fine. They are cloths of our soul. In every grief, there are also joy we need to find it. We are not here for only happiness or for only pain. But we are made for both. And when we know that joy and woe both are part of our life, we can live happily in grief also. So, in this poem poet wants to tell that accept both joy and pain. Do not become unhappy when sad moments come, there are always happy moments also. Know that both are part of everyone's life and live happily. That is all poet wants to say in the poem.
2 comments
Read more