Ethereal Enchantress

This poem was first written in Assamese (Axomiya, my mother tongue) and I translated it to English today. The original poem is attached below the English version.

Ethereal Enchantress

 

Oh my ethereal muse,

Your shadow dances across

the mirror of my imagination.

Crossing the boundary of dreams, Continue reading “Ethereal Enchantress”

Wildflower

Patches of lush green grasses adorned with wildflowers been growing steadily by the roadside that I normally take for walking my dog in the morning. Lawns in the neighborhood are immaculately manicured.  However during the stay-at-home, no one seems to be bothered by the steadily growing patch of grass.  Some places it is near knee high.  Everyday during my walk I am blessed with blooming wildflowers hidden between the grass.  A few adventurous ones have poked their heads above the ground.  They are just beautiful.  I happened to photograph one today morning.  Google lens identified it as Salsify / Tragopogon porrifolius, a plant cultivated for its ornamental flowers and edible root. It also grows wildly in many places.  Normally I would take a photo and share it with my social groups and that’s pretty much the end of the story. However after I took this photo today morning, the sheer beauty of the flower and perhaps the morning sunlight bathing the patch of wildflowers was constantly urging me to write something.  So here it is.  

Spare me your touch, the
Roving eyes,
Lust in your heart;
Banish the thought of
Picking me up,

Continue reading “Wildflower”

Pregnant Sky and Rainbows : Tuesday Photo Challenge – Rain

This week’s Tuesday Photo Challenge prompt from Frank  is  “Rain“.

I grew up with rains, lots of it, about seventy inches in average a year.  Monsoon, thunder and lightning.  Sound of raindrops drumming on the rooftop.  Hot, humid summers cooled down by a sudden downpour.  Flash floods and muddy roads, swift flowing rivers, overflowing drains.  And the place with most rain, Mawsynram, four hundred seventy inches of it, is about sixty miles away from the city I grew up.

Now I live in place with hardly any rain, just an average of fifteen inches a year and that too in winter.  Last few years we had much less than fifteen inches, with about eight inches in 2015 and about four inches in 2013.  So as you can imagine many a times we play hide and seek with rain clouds and we get deceived. Today is such a day, the sky is gray, the day is cloudy and there is just a nine percent chance of rain.  From experience I know it is not going to rain.  Here is a photo of  grey sky today pregnant with the promise of rain that will turn out to be deceiving.  Couple of months back I had posted a poem, Flirtatious Rain Clouds , on this topic.

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Sun fighting a losing battle with the clouds but chances of rain is minimal.

But there is always hope and what is hope if not that elusive pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. And where would be a rainbow without rain.

rainbow

Door closed for the last time

‘The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,’ —W.B. Yeats

The door closed for the last time
The old occupant had left
No light will be shining today
The hushed voices, furtive exchanges
Business transacted in darkness
Comings and goings at odd hours
Night owls were they
All will cease momentarily
Resistance was futile
Free will broken and subdued
Tears ran dry long ago
Scant cover of modesty
Snatched and thrown away
Colorful dresses just an allure
Before being routinely disrobed
First time the door slammed shut
Rainbow had vanished
Somewhere over the roof
Sky hidden by darkness
No rainbows shined today
Under cover of the whitesheet
Closed eyes could not see
Tears  running down from the sky
Perhaps appropriately
Last journey under a
Canopy of dark clouds
A life lived hiding
Behind closed doors
Dim lights unable to lift
Perpetual veil of darkness
Left that all behind
On a starless night
None left to weep
Behind closed doors, mourners
Busy selling their wares
They have to survive
Till their call comes
Somewhere a new occupant
Being prepared
To satisfy animal lust
The door will open soon
For innocence to be lost forever


This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Seventeen