Sunday, 23 May 2010
Yet, remember me
For years they remained inseparable company in life as neighbours whom I’d neither loved nor envied. In white radiance of pride shone the youth of life ruthlessly blinding faint glimmers they left upon an azure sky of soul. I dreamt not if they could so invincibly reign in the future in me.
I wonder if it is a battle between the past and the present or a bridge between. Awestruck I look at the army of valiant warriors ! Whom I took no care even to notice now descend with its impervious presence and I dare not but gaze on.
They leave me in a quandary if it is a battle or a bridge while I cede in. Memories ! I looked at them as some fallen leaves…once green that held soft rays of morn upon its wide face, sipped dews of those chilling night, and then turned yellow, then red, then brown…and…went away erasing all history of moments it lived through. And, I thought, they strolled along my side in walks of life; but I left them when I wished…the one, then another, and more while eloping with my envious future. They stood alike mannequins so fondly adorn with masks of my deeds and misdeeds for showing up on the ramp when I would need them—the good, bad and ugly—as I would like to introduce before the world. And, buried under its veiled existence roam wails of innocence as intense yet powerless as wishes of a trafficked girl. Yes, I did so. Will now they declare the sentence? I await.
I deserve whatever they do to me. I enjoy being vanquished. Only I keep on tuning harp to sing my last song.
Yet, remember me if I go far away.
If old love gets tangled in meshes of new love,
If I stay close yet you cannot discern
If I exist or not, still remember me.
If tears dangle between eyelids,
If the play ends once in sweetness of night,
Yet, remember me.
If chores are stuck in an autumn morn,
Even in remembrances if eyes do not glisten
Yet, remember me.
(Never mind my utter inadequacy in expressions while transliterating such a powerful poem of Rabindranath Tagore “Tabu mone rekho”)
For years they have been there--stoically oblivious To the world slipping out of time--caged in the dungeon of Down-shelves in my library...
Kids, I’m sorry to be late in offering you a vacation topic to ponder over. Here it is (Just a few lines for you only in the midst of a bit ...
The pavement borrows romance from dry smile of a dying moon; the night bleeds in unprovoked assault of moments redefining mirth and birt...
Only roses know the best of love And lips know the saddest lies So do I of a weird dream That bleeds but never dies The templ...