BY NIVI UPMANU
'Ambitions' and 'Dreams'
Appears only in far-fetched metaphors,
The Busy World around is a ‘Fact’
Where THEY make the ‘Ends meet,’
To present that ‘All Is Well.’
THEY left nothing of myself in me,
Brim-filled bowls of Dreams
I used to eat with my open eyes,
But one day ‘Unseen Power’, an Omnipotent now,
With THEIR sharp-edged swords, stepped into my eyes,
Cutting and slicing my cornea and retina,
Like a ‘Political aficionado’ cutting all the wires
connecting my eyes with skull
Leaving me into nothingness,
But a blazing bonfire of wrath
And the permanent favor to their ‘Power.’
All this happened in a minute,
Because Minute is A Time.
All together they turned me Blind,
In a minute.
Unnoticed and Unseen,
I, ALWAYS, suffer in Solitude,
since then!
I studied through such length of hours,
Wrapped my Mother’s shawl in fever,
Hit my head against the throbbing pain of migraine,
Full with passionate intensity, I plastered my body
With Knowledge to crack that one exam,
Which have Power to let my dreams
again fill my world with its’ perfumes.
Draping my Thoughts as Sanyasi, an Orange Cloth
To MANIFEST that my Hard Work
Will pay off one day as beautiful as
The Enlightenment to a Sanyasi!
But I forget, I am digging my own grave,
Like a Sorcerer, THEY again Won!
Under THEIR breath THEY have a repository of ‘Unseen Power’
Letting my blind eyes
To HOPE, HOPE, and HOPE
till Hope itself loose its existence,
Treating it like a non-renewable resource,
To keep using till it dies and
At last, kissed me with a new word
‘Despair!’
So, as usual, I started Hoping and Dreaming of my Future,
Dancing in the stardust world; a World of mirages
and incandescent enticements to plague my heart
once again with restlessness.
I MANIFESTED, MANIFESTED, MANIFESTED,
Till I heard a noise so fierce,
With ‘Power’ crawling like Satan
In the Garden of Eden to manipulate
My Innocent Mind like Eve,
With its’ hidden knife.
And when I opened my eyes,
I found my mouth with
‘A Punctured Tongue!’
Now, the plot of the story moves further,
Where ‘I am Blind’ and also ‘Dumb.’
The ‘Power’ is an Instrument
THEY love to play,
With other instruments of bureaucracy,
‘The Orchestra of Violent Strings,’
Leapt on my calm hopeful mind
Like a prowling beast, and gripped and tore
The DREAM and HOPE with THEIR grinding claws and fangs.
And lent me a cold blooded heart,
To stay Young Outside as I am A Youth Of The Country,
And an Old Soul who waits for his Death,
With a Paused Heart,
Everyday.
THEY sipped my Young Blood
From the bowl of Dreams and Hope.
You will often find me leaning out of my Window,
Searching for Something with my blind eyes,
On the silenced floors and in the muted seasons.
I Search for my Young Soul,
With my metamorphosed Old Soul,
Trying to squeeze the Big Universe Into a Small Ball,
And find my Young Soul without delay,
Because I am too old to move even my limbs.
I am an Old Soul of 24 years.
And, THEY say
“All’s Well That Ends Well!”
Come for a Coffee someday
To my house as a close friend of mine,
With whom I can share my one croissant into two-halves,
And spread my half left jar of marmalade on one toast,
And share not the cups but a Kulhad of Coffee,
Creating an environment of intimacy
Among some talks of you and me.
Don’t be afraid,
When my Old Soul with a Young Body,
Will ‘Shriek Silently’ in your ears,
“All Is Not At All Well That Ends Well”
Since I am dumb, only my soul can shriek,
Into a tumultuous Joy rising from weak
Skeleton within!
Because if THEIR PEOPLE will hear
That I am against THEM,
THEY will call me
‘A Leftist!’
Shhhhhh!!