Comments are closed.
Often when this lazy moon here (A fluorescent smear on black skin of night) Rises slowly From behind this winter blighted tree And mist of silence Hanging between its solitary branches Percolates into the depths Of cold empty heart Your memory rises from the stillness around In the shattered city of my being I tried to break my heart on purpose, didn’t you see? The struggle, sweat, the hammered down track And the scanty prize When the glacier refused to crack Nothing broke But one overstretched hope. Your memory rises from the stillness inside Darkness is a loving mother Calling softly Upon snoring memories. Nibbling upon the soft tissue of indifference They leap out of the memory sack And hop about like drunken mice. Reality is too unreal to be accepted I want to dream a while About you. About childhood. About forgetfulness. This night is overreaching the margins of dawn Its moist veil, dripping cold on tired eyes Darkness is a soothing mother What would have been the world like, were you still a part of it? I often think You traveled too fast Destinations aren’t reached so soon Desires couldn’t catch up with you then Nor can memory now You- an amputation of my soul. Incurable. Unspeakable. What would have been my world like, were you still a part of it? I have disowned this rebellious heart (Its beatings the most alien sounds now) And owned it again Over and over again Unlike the dead flowers We used to bury under loose sand, you remember? Thinking it won’t choke their breath like sticky mud. I placed my heart under heavy stone Squeezing all life out of it But rebellion comes in varieties I have disowned this insolent heart Whirling in the infinite oblivion of your tender eyes I saw the Autumn of your soul, of our world That day, you remember, when dusk dropped Somewhat early Uneasy rays of sun were struggling in the twigs Of that single, disproportionate Chinar Sketching a wavering pattern on bare earth Unmindful, waiting for you I wrote in the same diary ‘The caged bird sobs. We hear a song.’ You were anxious to see me off; I couldn’t see the reluctance in your tone I was too hasty to leave; you couldn’t see the reluctance in my pace It wasn’t winter But we were supposed to part. My universe broke and I saw it Whirling in the infinite oblivion of your troubled eyes Winter is an indispensable season Leaves must fall, desires wilt And sparrows must drop dead Over decaying leaves, fluttering anxious In seasonless winds. Winter. Of memory and desire. Death must thaw the frosty core of life Winter is an indispensable emotion.
Comments are closed.
WE are living in a world that is governed by rules and regulations for everything, created not by anyone else but by US only. The walls of these rules and regulations are so high that one wonders what to speak, think even sometimes what to feel. Everything seems possessed and in chaos. Amidst all this pandem
© TPP 2018
Designed & Developed By Evaluate Bytes