by Atul Chandra Sarkar
Wrinkle, wrinkle,
Crease and crinkle,
I really wonder what you are;
Are you the pleasures?
Or are you the pain?
Which have left their footprints
On the skinny plain.
Not everyone gets the chance
To see themselves like paper crumple;
Not every sight can have a glance
How Time can really rumple;
Say, mirror, mirror on the wall,
You’re still the fairest of all;
You have your bald;
You have your gray;
You still have the hope
To see another day.
Recall those faces,
That are no more;
Call your loved ones
Whom you still adore;
If they respond
It’s well and good;
If they don’t,
They are no good;
Don’t fret, don’t regret;
Live each moment as if,
Another day you’ll never get;
Wrinkle, wrinkle,
Crease and crinkle,
Don’t shy if people stare;
Let them see the lines and curves
Beautifully etched
On a living earthenware.
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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 November 13, 2014