SUNDAY BASH

A poem written, keeping in mind of a special 'one'. The person is no longer there in my life but the memories are still fresh and harmonious.I hope, staleness never to spread over it and steal away the warmth.
Dedications might be ephemeral but fondness from a feeble corner always keeps the candle of care and compassion burning.So in order to save the candle flicker from the 'storm of practicality' of our speedy generation, a small verse for the black-eyed girl, upon whose shoulder, I did rest once...


Illuminating sunlight, clear blue sky, sparkling lake water and lush green garden came into my sight as I woke up to breathe the serenity of a Sunday morning…

Streams of smoke danced vertically from a cup of hot tea with the newspaper preaching society’s pros and cons

Here the mind of a common man absorbed what it fetches from a nearby well of suggestions and advices.

But it soon got heavy and soaked with pain…

                         

It was just a minute ago when the hands of the clock, the great grandfather’s clock witnessed voices of happiness…

-‘where was it now??’

“There it is” shouted the man in white gown at the back of my mind

 I slowly visualized IT drowning in the sparkling lake water with eyes longing for help

But I had no other option than to sit with folded hands and give a sigh of grief…

Nostalgia sets in…

It canvassed a life full of fun and frolic…a life full of friends

Friends with whom I have witnessed sorrow and joy all day long banging desks

Friends with whom I laughed my heart out

An eyelash flap…and it’s all gone

A piece of paper, pen and the four walls of my room define solitude

Turgid with the sense of dis-satisfaction, failure and cheap creativity

I hold the hands of a girl beaming with cheerfulness

She asked” why are your eyes dull? A world full of happiness awaits you”

I looked toward her to see a pair of eyes beaming with care and concern

Resting my head on her shoulders, I enjoyed the sun setting in the distant horizon…