As the sun goes down, I hear the quiver of my heart ...
the pale evening gloom twins with my skin.
The sweet fragrance of parijaat wafts from the tree we had planted together;
my heart swells and lurches with a stab of poignant pain that calls out your name ...
Tears dawdle offhandedly
like wayfarers,
into the lane of my laugh lines, gifted by you ...
The raging tempest strolls in the zigzagging boulevard of my psyche,
as I burrow inside myself, once again!
The hostile storm named “why” shakes me up, trying to uproot my being...
reminding me of the kalbaishakhi,
the destroyer of my favourite “touch me not”.
The mayhem of my heart was assuaged by your presence.
You sat effortlessly on the wooden bench
of my soul’s rain soaked porch
sowing seeds of parijaat.
I felt the germination of an infinite bond
between us,
taunting my stubborn soul in whimsical whispers.
yes! only you could mute the raging storm inside of me.
You had woven subtlety in the folds of my braid
detangling the tough knots of my soul...
You, like the morning sun, had lent your strangely warm, smoky colours to my world.
I had captured your light in my clenched fist,
kneading it with your witty repartee;
and the presence of the symbiotic existence
had gifted me magical bliss.
In your presence,
smile would dawn on me like gate crashers,
never to leave again ...
You, like a gush of zephyr, had wiped off
my dusty flakes;
replacing them with pink lilies of love and compassion.
Without you, my heart wanders aimlessly,
like the scowling clouds on the bosom of the grey orb!
I tuck the symphony of your flute
in the crease of my saree and face life, sans life!
When the midnight stars peep in, illuminating the sky,
will you come back to efface the throbbing pain in my chest?
Can we pluck the stars to fill our cane basket with dreams?
Can we sit by the side of the Ganges?
And fill our pitchers to appease our parched yearnings?
Can we race our paper boats into the stream,
that meets our dreamland?
would you still be happy in your forfeit?
And stare at me with those smiling eyes
just to see me jump with joy,
basking in the glory of my victory?
Will you come back, please?
Let me drench myself in the song of your flute
and dissolve in your tune’s consonance.
Note:
The free-spirited village boy Tarapada was inquisitive about knowing the unknown. He was a wanderer, in search of thousand answers to his meandering mind. By happenstance, he bumped into a zamindar family and befriended his daughter. His spontaneity attracted the zamindar and his wife and they arranged his marriage to their only daughter Charu, who was smitten with Tarapada for his simplicity and his splendid repartee.
On a day prior to his wedding, he disappeared again, leaving love and comfort behind, on a quest to discover the unknowns of the world.
Charu was heartbroken!
Mahua Sen is based out of Hyderabad. She works for BEO as the Regional Director ( South).
Mahua has authored a poetry book named Insights published under the flagship of Authorspress. She has also edited and compiled an anthology of poems and short stories titled ‘Flock, the Journey’, which was very well accepted and was crowned as an Amazon Bestseller.
Mahua is the winner of Asian Literary Society’s Wordsmith Award 2020.
She is the winner of Half Baked Bean’s Annual Poetry Award 2020.
Her poems and stories find place in many anthologies, journals and newspapers.