The Key to Memories – set of haiku

once adolescent 

romantic exuberance

ah, spring in the air

*****

words overflow, joy

love, pure and unbound, to share

luxuries of youth

*****

chest of memories

keys thrown, lost, bleeding heart weeps

passion takes roots, waits

*****

summer follows spring

harsh life, a dormant passion

hardy roots grow strong

*****

superfluous keys

memories of youth bygone

the tree grows stronger

 

The last memories

when memories fail,

and I no longer recognize me,

take me to the sea shore,

and leave me there on the beach.

as the rays of the setting sun

sets the blue sky ablaze,

and the fingers of an approaching evening

tenderly closes my eyes one last time,

as the gentle waves of the sea

sing a haunting lullaby in my ears,

and the high tides cradle

and carry me to the comforting depth of the sea,

as this enchanting world slowly slips away,

let these last memories be engraved on my eyes.

and on the day of the new dawn,

may be in another little corner of the universe,

reincarnation, a new beginning.

when I open my eyes to start a new journey,

blessed with the last memories,

fortunate to be born in this earth,

this blue sky, the warm sands by the sea side,

endless expanse of a rolling sea,

where the setting sun goes down

every evening with a promise of

a new dawn,

let these last memories

be with me.

Moments

I made peace with the moment.
What lies ahead, unknown.
What’s left behind, memories
I cannot change.
What matters now
Is this moment, precious,
I make no efforts to hold on.
Unknown to me I became an observer.
As this moment will pass,
I shall embrace
The one that comes.
Why worry
What it holds,
The mystery shall be revealed
In due time.

Hopes and heartbreaks

Stopped living by others’ expectations

And that made all the difference

Freedom to speak own mind

Fear of losing friends

Illusions

Hopes and heartbreaks

Things of past

Memories

These new wings flutter

Exhilaration

Tread alone if needed

Opened heart

To embrace the unknown

Childhood returns

Curiosity

Unbound explorations

Incarnation

Ready to resist

Crushing suffocation

Of a society

That lost its

Soul

You Are Old

You are old when your call is answered
And you are trying to remember who you called
You are old when your call is answered
And you ask why are you being called
You are old when your call is met with silence
And you hold the phone to your ear wondering why
You are old when your phone lies dead by your side
And you don’t remember a single number to call
So when you are still young, pick up the phone and call
Some one young at heart may respond and you have a ball
Before the fingers become stiff, ears go deaf
Eyes go blurry, memories fade and voice gets weak
Wake up, reach out, make a call and hug your near and dear ones

Memories of Evenings Past

Those golden evenings

Of days bygone

Of laughter, jokes and

Meaningless stories

Shooting the air as

Time flew

And nights took

Us gently in her bosom

Memories we carry

Deep in our hearts

Words that now

Floats through ether

Impersonal alphabets

On the screen

Leave a painful void

Searching hands

Empty of feeling

Missing personal touch

We Travelled Time

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
Embracing youth,
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.
Rejuvenated,
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.

Friends will remain Friends

In our adolescence, we leave our homes to go to colleges and universities for higher studies.  For many of us that would be the first time staying away from home alone.  We make new friends, spend few years of our formative life together, graduate and then move out in search of our livelihood.  In old days, many a times, that was the last time we would meet or correspondance with friends that we spent years together.  Modern technology and social media is making it easier to track old friends whose memories we kept alive for years in our mind.  Alas, with time people change. Memories of distant past and present clash sometimes and produce unexpected results.

Poem below is my feeling about meeting groups of old classmates in social media after decades of being completely out of touch.  Those feelings may resonate with some of my readers.  Appreciate your feedback.

We have traversed distances long
Climbed mountains high
Savored the fruit of success Continue reading “Friends will remain Friends”