by ATUL CHANDRA SARKAR
When the crescent
Was a silvery curve line:
A clip of enigmatic brilliance,
Adorning the darkening tresses,
Of a poignant evening,
I thought of you.
I squiggled your name,
On the blackboard of darkness,
Watching love-struck cicadas,
Encircle the blinking street-neon,
Whose blackened ends,
Proved its last lap state;
Just like the cicadas,
And me without you.
Your favourite fragrance,
Your enlivening footfall,
The aerial caress
Of the cotton-seed,
Touched, passed me;
Making your presence live!
I spent silver-edged, dark hours,
With you in my dream couch.
Ah! but where am I now:
Just another cicada,
Seared and shriveled,
Down-trodden,
At the feet of the lamp-post,
Signed by passing dogs,
What have you made of me?
What have you….?
I placed you on the highest pedestal,
You floored me:
The unneeded.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Double Post Graduate in Philosophy and Sociology and LLB degree-holder, a Gold Medalist from Canning College, University of Lucknow, U.P. India. Presently engaged as Advisor (Industrial Relations) and Public Information Officer (Corporate) at Uttar Pradesh Rajya Vidyut Utpadan Nigam Ltd., Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh, India and is a Guest Faculty at Electricity Training Institute, Sarojini Nagar, Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh on the Right to Information Act, 2005. An Advocate registered with the Bar Council. Articles, poems and short stories have been published in popular National dailies like Pioneer, Northern India Patrika, Times of India, Campus Verse, Shaktivani, etc. A Blogger at Times of India's speakingtree and having a flair for oil painting. A democratic, liberal and humanist to the core.
Last updated December 15, 2014