Short story slam week 49: NEGATION OF LIFE

Short story slam week 49: NEGATION OF LIFE

Today I have learnt I have no place in this world, and so long I have traveled places to places, without any gratification from all people whom I am supposed to be my intimate, and find that these self-destined people hate me, and they think that I am only culprit to deny their demands, as the world is theirs, and I am their boss to fulfill their unforeseen whims those are so violent that I cannot follow their motive to locate the world from where they will gain everything they want, and I am their mistakenly chosen person of granting dream land. They think I have no dream, I have no whim, I have no demand, I have no fairy land, I cannot have beautiful nights, I have no passage for seeing the world in my way of living intertwine, I need no counselling, I cannot enjoy beauty of life.  I cannot act in the way of act of rejuvenation with love, sympathy and promise.

In a moonlit night

I come across a fairy land,

Tales of life with dream,

Beneath the starry sky,

I cannot stand in this life.  .

NEW TOWN

I walk to the construction site

Soil is prepared, r.c. column tries to grab the sky,

Rubbish, building materials scattered everywhere,

Metro railway on the foreground with sidewalls,

Buildings crab to get architectural beauty,

That fits to the new town’s appearance.

I want to search lost field’s greenery,

It is bounded with fencing at some places,

Either it is a mall premises or lawn to sit-and-eat,

Having one big sign-board, “Multi Cuisine Restaurant”,

Cosmopolitan town just takes the shape,

And sign of purposeful commercial intent,

Living here is a boast for those who can afford price,

Cemented whims is established with no grudge,

We need not think of the past, exposure is there

Just to walk beside the glimpse, edge of dream.  

SPRING RAIN

With the day break, clouds cover the sky,

Where no sunlight comes, and heart of water

Does hover over my head when I am walking

On the roof-top of my house, and drizzles

Are pouring in all-around, it is beginning of March,

Mango flowers just begin to bloom, and

Festival of colors (Happy Holi) begins countdown to come,

Things of beauty of spring begin with Palash flower.

I raise my mind to enjoy that beauty

In cloudy sky that starts to show the earth

That has seasons with vibrant show amid pleasing

Mind’s approach, as long as

Smoothing illusion grows around mind’s journey,                                                                          

Over hard situations and we try to induct us

Into good weather, and raindrops begin falling

With speed of stormy gush, not fenced with narrowness.          

I am on the roof-top and get wet in rain

Raindrops get trapped within cornice walls

And concrete surface fails to soak water

That gets no speedy passage to go down drain,

Waters on the surface turn into a pool or sea

Where raindrops make stir to carry wave of life,

That caries running with bounces, re-bounces,

All are secrets of own songs of nature, delight.  

                                                                                                                             

THE CLOUD AND THE MOON

Why the cloud feels proud to hide the moon

Upon its journey, so many past and present thrills

The moon crosses the effect, in its trilling smiles,

And slowly makes its presence in the sky’s fore front. 

TANKA

Little clouds hover in

Morning sunlight in the sky,

April on the trip,

On health purpose, wide journey

Begins with fruit, food and water.

YOU WILL DWELL IN A NEW WORLD

What is mystery in the sky?

The sunlight itself? Or a small bird?

Your eyes caught into aerial visits in surprise,

Rainy clouds do hide shining and shifting

Of spreading sunlight, as little it is seen,

As little you are in search and invent

Time of the earth’s flowering season.

You are child to know the speech

That God has created for your nascent eyes,

Life is breathing, yet your childhood thinking

Does hold curiosity, first to know, then to follow

And find all things with clarity, then as a man,

You will dwell in a new world, appearing splendid.  

ON BEATING OF DRUMS - 1

The evening that comes in the village fold,

The figures in the dark contour,

That holds heaven of dancing tour,

And resolute in merriment of twilight,

To cross the bridge of day and night,

Villagers are on the threshold to make tide,

Dancing and turning over and again,

Each one stepping in merriment of the beating,

And some onlookers are gilded in joy,

And welcome the dance, ripening color

Of the fire that lights night across the sky,

The evening forgets dark seas,

And mingles into dancing delight. 

Note: THIS POEM FIRST POSTED IN LINKEDIN.COM ON 07.08.2012 AT Creative Outlet Ventures in a discussion of my poem, ON BEATING OF DRUMS, published in my blog at http://asimkumarpaul.blogspot.in/2012/08/on-beating-of-drums.html

 Picture Credit: Malabika Bhowmik, Kolkata