Skip to main content

ME?


Underneath this stable soil
A beast is trapped for years.
It moans, it groans, it sighs
But nobody hears.

One fine evening
On my way back home
I took an unknown route
To hide from the smoke and soot.

The countryside was lovely
A treat to the eyes.
The view was getting better
When I heard the sighs.

The sun was taking a back-seat,
The engine was gathering more heat,
The air was rushing past me
Suddenly I heard my name.

Nobody was around
Just trees and the road and me.
Who on earth would sigh and call?
I pulled over to see.

The sigh and the cry got louder
As I moved towards the lake.
It came from under a tree
My name was being called distinctly.

I froze for a while
As it kept on calling.
I asked in a faint voice-
“Who are you?”

The beast started laughing
“I am you”…
I ran back to the car
 Didn’t stop till I was home.

I can never forget that day
When I met myself accidentally.
Since then I’ve lived in the crowd
Amongst familiar faces and family.

No more off routes,
No more country airs,
 No more introspection
No more ugly scares.

Comments

  1. Asmita biswas21 March 2012 at 23:58

    good stuff... deep actually... beast inside us... at times we do come face 2 face accidntally...

    ReplyDelete
  2. rima22 March 2012 at 00:34

    osha osha....we don evn knw hw mch scary we can be....hey bt kp on introspectin n deliva us sch wndaful lines....:)

    ReplyDelete
  3. deep2122 March 2012 at 00:47

    I agree it's pretty deep, but the entire presentation is so simple and devoid of any extra ornamentation altho' the theme of the poem I think isnt that simple.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Jaba22 March 2012 at 06:09

    The thought is so doubt deep.. we are at times more comfortable in the crowd than with ourselves.. Why..Are we in denial? May be it's only 'me' who knows my own deeper drawbacks, my shortcomings and we are not ready to face them.. So very true!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Zainab Sayeed24 March 2012 at 09:16

    True m just happy without taking trips into my subconscious..without thinking wt i really wud hv done hd i listened to myself instead of doing wt ws thrust upon me or wt i was supposedly called to do..

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Aritra Chakrabarti24 March 2012 at 13:25

      I am honoured that the poem evoked such a reaction from you...

      Delete
  6. Sanjukta2 April 2012 at 08:43

    We often fail to gauge who we really are.

    Amazing Theme.

    As usual. Im in love with the way u write.
    Keep up the good work.
    \m/

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

WHICH WAY OUT?

Here I see a sinking ship. Only me in it… Slowly the water Reaches my feet… I can’t swim. I can’t think. The brain is numb, The feet are frozen. The hands don’t move, The tongue is parched. What’s the point? Why even try? Let’s sit here. Let’s go down… The eyes soak in The lovely blue Of the sky and the sea- A blue that seems so new. What’s there in life? Never saw this blue When I lived… Did I live? Did I love? Was I loved? Who will cry? And for how long? Doesn’t matter now… I don’t care… Let’s wait and watch… Let’s be one with the blue… Here I sink… Or do I rise? I embrace the blue. But I don’t feel wet anymore. Sea or sky? Where am I? Am I free? “Never” cried a voice. And I touched the old soil Of love, hatred and recoil… Even death played a trick I feel so sick… A betrayed little dog Back on earth to slog…
7 comments
Read more

THE FIRE-FLY

So late into the night, A pale yellow light, The room is all so gloomy. The sorry wreck of myself Perched on the chair, Hitting some notes On the faithful old guitar. The fingers find their way To the chords that may Drive in some fun. But the melancholy minors Are always there to  stay. Oh! A fire-fly! What a delight! Full of it’s happy light… Near the corner of the room It sits down to rest, Spreading its light all along.  I partake of the happiness And the guitar responds With such vigour and joy That the gloom of the room Seems like misty history. The fire-fly starts feeling restless. So much of joy… So hard to contain… Its job is done. It has made me feel so good. Now it can leave And spread the mood around. It takes off, hovers in the air, Goes higher, takes a swing… And oh!!The cruel blade- The return-gift from humanity… It drops down on the table, Its light slowly fading out… I keep ...
16 comments
Read more

OVERLOADED OVERHEAD

An ethereal corporeal footstep Added to the multitude of thumps A monumental mechanical drift Diffused through a temperate corporate pump. Oft in a room full of caffinated keyboards Tapped with the same resonant feel One of the normalised overheads Fails to respond to the drill. As the glass lets in the sunshine It does well to keep out the rain But what would the good glass keep out If the room becomes a marshy terrain? Yet after a moment of murky silence The nervous fingers get back to tapping again. Aritra Chakrabarti, 8.45AM, 15 th July, 2017.
Post a Comment
Read more