gulab khandelwal selected poems

I am not a form,
I am a name only.
Whatever I may do,
I cannot save my body.
It is only my name
That death cannot efface.
Therefore, putting aside the lure of form,
I am engaged in saving my name.
But I do not know

How long even the name can remain my own.
Is it not an illusion
That I will be able to save myself
By saving my name?

My name could have been some thing else.
How could this casual identity
Represent my essence?
Is it not a covering only
That will drop off me
Along with my body ?
But even if this is true,
That my form and my name both will become
Useless to me
After my death,
It appears to me very consoling
That any message sent to me in my name,
Will reach me somehow, somewhere,
Even when I am gone.