Mother:Always

 

Mother: Always

Picking at your winter skin

dried on the underside of your

middle-aged feet and

engrossed in a tale of murder

while working at your daily bread

you suddenly start

and wonder what are you doing

in the dead of the night

while death might be lurking around

and there will be no trace of you

after an interval

of zero to infinite time.

The perception fever is

without heat or fire

Just it won't allow

you to sit back light

and watch the passing scenes

that have roots and a soil

to keep them bound

to a reality that appears almost real.

But after you have looked for

the dead amidst the darkened trees

and the lonely looking paths

in the bed of dead leaves

and in the familiar corners,

After you have lost and pined

for a forty-year-old long togetherness

brimming with more love

than you can ever give.

You look upon life

with more indifference

than yesterday

with people staging in

and staging out

to their own music,

your longings still manifesting

in the smell of old sarees

and faded bangles

and an invisible presence

in the corner of the degenerating house.

-Niharika Mishra

(All rights reserved)

Again Came Rain

 

Rain came again today

And wiped the sky clean,

of its sunny splendour,

Went into a wanton, frenzied dance

for a time

and departed

with the rash impulsiveness it had appeared.

People talked among themselves

How someone

worshipped at the pinnacle

of attainment and affluence died

and went away alone

on the path to eternity

leaving behind

his accumulated opulence

and hallowed existence.

His worshippers,

soaked in pain and torment,

lamented the loss

of his angelic presence,

his smile,

his magical demeanour,

They kept pining

through odd days,

weeks and months

You pondered,

how you still kept alive

after the sheltering canopy

of love and comfort

was pulled away from above your head

so abruptly,

How you smile still,

and start prancing around inside,

with joy, as soon as rain drops fall.

Nobody ever beckons you,

except for this wind, this storm,

and the prolonged solitude of

these queer yellow afternoons.

Nobody cherishes

your untamed unhaltered soul.

Even long after rain has departed,

you keep standing in trance

same way, at the same place,

wet and spellbound,

covered with droplets,

waiting for something or someone.

You keep looking for something

in the peripheral sky

and bounce back,

right to your place

in the queued events of the day,

and keep standing there

all by yourself

without woes.

-Niharika Mishra-

(All rights reserved)

Again Came Rain

Rain came again today

And wiped the sky clean,

of its sunny splendour,

Went into a wanton, frenzied dance

for a time

and departed

with the rash impulsiveness it had appeared.

People talked among themselves

How someone

worshipped at the pinnacle

of attainment and affluence died

and went away alone

on the path to eternity

leaving behind

his accumulated opulence

and hallowed existence.

His worshippers,

soaked in pain and torment,

lamented the loss

of his angelic presence,

his smile,

his magical demeanour,

They kept pining

through odd days,

weeks and months

You pondered,

how you still kept alive

after the sheltering canopy

of love and comfort

was pulled away from above your head

so abruptly,

How you smile still,

and start prancing around inside,

with joy, as soon as rain drops fall.

Nobody ever beckons you,

except for this wind, this storm,

and the prolonged solitude of

these queer yellow afternoons.

Nobody cherishes

your untamed unhaltered soul.

Even long after rain has departed,

you keep standing in trance

same way, at the same place,

wet and spellbound,

covered with droplets,

waiting for something or someone.

You keep looking for something

in the peripheral sky

and bounce back,

right to your place

in the queued events of the day,

and keep standing there

all by yourself

without woes.

-Niharika Mishra-

(All rights reserved)