The heart rending wail from the floor below Found its way into the corridors of my mind, Echoing in my brain long after it subsided. It was Munna’s mom, who died that morning,
As drastically as Jigjri’s son lost his life to cancer, As rapidly as Anju’s husband left for a new voyage Some days back leaving their families smaller. Death seems to be lurking with his scythe in hand.
We all cried as much for the departed, as for ourselves, Recognizing in each departure, our worldly attachments, To those with whom fate has knotted our lives, memories Of which cannot be washed away fully by death and time.
Death is a finality, as bare and stripped and true As our own birth, and of every living thing on earth. We copiously mourn only the seemingly final departures. We die a thousand deaths with a heart still pulsating.
Often, it seems there is as much life surrounding death, As there are slices of death in our living-breathing world. These come in heaps of hopelessness, and drowned dreams As we are borne away, with each and every breath of life.
Experienced researcher and freelance writer, who has written articles for newspapers on various subjects. An articulate teacher, with experience of teaching students of History B.A. (Honours). Possess communication and analytical skills that helped while working (teaching dance and theatre) with young children in the voluntary sector. Running a Non Profit Organisation in East Delhi, Srijanatmak Manushi Sanstha
Upon the land far away is something different I dare say the look of sandy beaches and palm trees are set on top of flowing sea reeds where in that distance of the land is something different seen at hand
Entering the room consumes all in the boardroom All eyes rise all phones are placed down without a groan or a sound Walking in proud owning the floor just walked on for sure endowed Honing the sharp minds for the
She dusts her memories with thoughts and prayers for those she left behind. Longing for them like ebb and tide. She spins looms of love laden with smiles and hope And somersaults days into nights tossing her old life into