Imagination unbridled, mind uncluttered
This post is in response to Ronovan’s Weekly Haiku Challenge .
Truth really fake
The pompous POTUS proclaimed
Let honor be damned
Voters respect truth
Honor is restored
Truth is in nature
Honor among animals
More than I understand myself
Gazed at your eyes silhouetted
Reflecting darkness of the sea Oh how I wanted to ask thee
What you understood about me
Seeking myself through the ages
It’s darkness only that I see Were you scared of what you saw
To share with me what you found
Now I search for the answer alone
Under new moon’s darkened glow
What was vibrant and verdant few days back
Today litters the ground, fallen leaves dry
Crunched under feet of those walking by
Is this nature’s way of warning us
Enjoy the ride while you can
In pride lies the seed of destruction
What goes up must come down
Fall from grace, humbled and resurrection
A mere spectator, I try to enjoy as life goes by
Fall is in the air
Featured image photo by the author 11-8-2018
Words have not deserted me,
But I fail to convince myself
That they matter.
I do not write anymore. Continue reading “I do not write anymore”
I am visiting my home town, Guwahati, in India for Durga Puja. The nine day celebration (Navaratri) of worshipping Goddess Durga ends on the tenth day with the immersion of her idol on Vijaya Dashami (October 19th this year. Last I was in Guwahati for Durga Puja was in 1984.
On my way to Guwahati, I stayed in Kolkata for two days meeting my college class mates whom I had not seen for more than four decades. The poem below is an expression of how I felt meeting my friends, with whom I had spent five years of my life, after such a long time.
We Travelled Time
For a moment time stood still,
And then we rolled it back.
As decades collapsed to years,
And years squeezed to
Months and days,
For a few hours there
We found our fountain of youth.
Years fell of like
Leaves falling off a tree in fall.
Behold the miracle!
As Yayati sheding his old age
In the dying rays of an autumn sun
We took a dip in the fountain
And emerged as teens.
Bewildered eyes of our sweethearts
Questioning what madness engulfed us,
We travelled time.
Drank from our cup of memories.
We parted, not with a heavy heart
But promises to meet again.
©Pranab Sarma, 2018
Yayati – mythological king who was cursed with old age at the prime of his youth. He regained his youth as his son Puru agreed to take his father’s curse and gave his youth to his father.
Our images frighten us.