My New Poem

The Forbidden…

Sleeping in abandoned sepulchers in the cemetery

Like a recollection of some faded dream on a freezing

Winter morning; tiny dew drops greet the fragile souls

Without a roof and the sky’s limitless vastness that welcomes fresh

Rays from behind the clouds…  

Morning has touched these vaults.

The recess of resurrection is over!

Creating collective experiences of shared values for humanity,

The incinerating flame of being discarded and many offences being

Turned into ashes build an illusion of life, living and death – animating

Years of sheltered solitude and vivaciousness alike!

Scarcity looms large across these fragile souls and few

Winter’s lone soldiers, who now welcome a delicate fragrance of steaming

Tea leaves, and huge temple bells that awakens the deities.

As sun wings its rays across empty lanes and behind tree leaves,

Fragility becomes vivid on these streets landscaping such souls, who

Gather their shaded, torned remains – and their weak torsos, yellowed o’er time!

Their blankets and strewn pieces of metal plates size up in the corner,

As dust is swept into dirty wide opened drains!

Here, some joggers electrifyingly cross such sight

Blinded away by such disquieting discomfitures…

Momentarily, the adults start debating on reasons of why and why not’s –

Benumbing our sensitivities over the sirens of Mosques and old notes from the

Sprawling Gurudwara, calling the faithful and such others fancying for their turn,

To submit themselves before the Divine – in this hour of calmness!

Roads radiate out with few travellers on their empty carts, and bicycles.

While serenity surrounds the crowd that slowly pace by to be within themselves.

So unchallenging, yet aesthetically drawn across from different

Shades of the muted silence of such fragile souls, as they move ahead

Clinging to their memories of the spaces left emptied o’er time and dust.

Nestled between two worlds that intertwines their dreary branches,

These forbidden souls celebrate the circle of life – forgotten, yet listed…

Here anonymity seeks solace of the abandoned!

Here time rebels into lanes and alleys!

Rajdeep Pathak

February 12, 2018

Recluse…

Savouring the charms of the fading city lights

I create an illusion of calligraphy of quietude,

Where the desolate trees open a lane to

A sole window, escaping into the dream

Of journeys, silently…!

The neglect of the trails of everyday world

Zooms past the roar of the metallic sounds

Like sea waves crashing on the rock stones.

Whilst a banyan tree quietly lowers its branches

Providing temporary shade to the passer by,

As the island of vastness empties its tranquility

Of calmness and senses alike!

Few mango sellers greet the crowd in the market nearby

Each with a new bargain, each with his own delivery!

A random traveller slowly notices, invades and moves ahead;

And piles of newspapers lie across the games of cards, where

Oldies join their folks over politics and cardamom tea.

Inside the corridors of the giant trees and tombstones with few

Gentle words, the wondering squirrels slink away to chosen corners

As Earth welcomes the slowly fastening drizzling droplets, while

The choking red bricks lie in bulk bathing in the rain.

From near the garden, the soothing fragrance of jasmine

Grows strong with stings of the southern bees; and

Many watch the ecstasy of children on the waterlogged streets…

The needle on the clock strike the noon chords,

Deconstructing individuals from the makeshift of

The vast emptiness, to a flat world, again!

I feel trapped…!

                Rajdeep Pathak

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