By Samyak Singh
Mimicking the sounds of my heart,
I felt a little nauseated,
More of a sudden surrealism.
Those frantic run chases to school,
Evening breeze singing lonely lullabies,
In the midst of my chaotic teenage fiasco,
"Ranchi" has this air in it,
An answer to the question I raised above.
Small town brewing those stories,
Clouded by limping fantasies.
While the chilly winds
Soothe the ruptured veins,
Anyday I'd urge myself,
To reminisce the daily trails,
For an escape into the silence,
And amidst all the glow and fervour it has,
Silence prevails along a chain of stalls and mills.
I tried making it up on the conspiring tales,
Along with those sumptuous samosas
Drenched in a swooning ketchup..
Our whispered legacies can last till eternity.
Yes, doubtless of all the lavish days spent,
A dizzy glimpse of a remorse flickers,
Almost round the clock!
The most with whom I could converse,
Silhouetted gullies with a string of streetlights
And witnessing the sky's horizon smeared in orange.
However trampled my memories are,
Plight never took over,
Never deterred the affectionate air Ranchi delves in,
Lunging over the hustling citylights,
I wonder about those priceless memories...
Even an ordinary scooty ride,
An ever pleasant, motherly weather,
A typical, irking school hour,
Cricket stirred adrenaline rush,
And an eerie of household chaos,
Doesn't put my heart in a spot of bother,
Every time my ride ends at Ranchi junction,
I feel freckles making their way up my shoulder,
I can see reprieve,
All emblazoned into a calligraphy..
For they catered to my daunting nuances,
But also revelled in my heartiest drills of laughter.