Poem

The Silent Aroma of the Night

One more time into the streets alone in the darkness, where

The aroma of freshly baked cakes greet me, whilst the

Whistling of the pressure cooker from a nearby home

Announces the last meal of the day, ready to be served!

From a distance, the night watchman thumps his staff

On narrow stony path, affirming our safety indoors.

I prefer this solitude, outside.

Far into the night as this weary world sleeps away,

I can see the brightened up lamp post gleam in this dark hour,

As pigeons scramble on some tin roof away from

The pavements of the city life, escaping the abundance

Of the sleeping sky and tiny grains that

Lay scattered around few broken stones!

Few souls of tranquility find this moment to share their thoughts

As smile plays on their lips, quietly, unconsciously, momentarily…

Walking amidst the roots of trees that lie

Suspended like theatre curtains in an opera house,

Whose silence is broken by some daring soul that

Checks the sound of the brakes before

Zooming past these naked lamp posts!

In this hour of quietude where space finds a distinctive character

Few other souls gather at a tea seller, taking the last sip before

Breaking into this drunken night, while the moon makes its

Midnight romantic appearance…

Rajdeep Pathak

February 9, 2018