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Indrakhi Mandal Poem
The sky is blue today
A very Indian Autumn blue;
Cloud wisps float in it,
Tagoresque in their rhythm!
The green of the trees
And of the grass
In white, yellow and gold,
Shine incandescent;
Yet pleasantly muted!
I should be happy, you know:
I usually am
On such incandescent Autumn days......
But not today.
Today I am not happy.
Not at all happy;
For you
Have turned your back on me!
Don’t know why,
Can’t ask why,
Why you have thus
Hemmed yourself within Walls;
Walls I can never scale.
"Why, why have you?"
I can’t help but ask
Again and again
Against your wordless Wall;
And then tired,
Of my own self !
Is it because you are hesitant to Give?
But Oh!
I haven’t asked Anything of you:
Not asked for Rain,
Nor for Clouds;
Neither for Sunshine
nor Stars;
Not even for flecks of Stardust
Or stray drops of Dew.....!
All I ever asked,
If one can ask unsaying:
Was just your Words......!
Was it all wrong then,
That asking?
Oh, but I thought Words were free.
Your Words,
All Yours to give.....!
But I was terribly wrong
Is it not
Wrong as wrong can be?
Words are not free.
Fettered by Propriety,
By Prudence and Pride...
Words have never been free......!
Free Words rattle Roots.
Usher Revolution.
Bring Ruin.
No,
I am too timid;
Too timid
To rattle Roots,
To usher Revolution,
To bring Ruin.
And so I have learnt
Now
Just like you
To Wall my Words...
To shackle, weigh, reign them in..
For my Words too
Must never never be free..........!
Copyright © Indrakhi Mandal | Year Posted 2016
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Details |
Indrakhi Mandal Poem
So I love you the most when?
Is it then,
when in sleep
you turn in need:
dark, lithe limbs entwining,
rasping-
a little rough,
like once-used sandpaper?
Or
maybe then,
when you call me again
and then, again:
first on that maroon and black
yesterday's telephone-
business-like trills;
next on my brand new cell-
old Hindi lovesongs;
then again on my iPad-
this time, ' The Moon and I'?
What you say, doesn't matter.
What I hear, I don't remember.
Only your deep bass floats
like fragrant incense smoke
suspended in still air,
long after the phones
have fallen silent.
Or
could it be then,
when reading these tacky poems of mine
you forward them to friends;
a little bit
like the 'showing-off' by proud parents
of a particularly nerdy teen?
Or
perhaps it is simply then,
when standing with friends
on an evening road
at its pine-shadowed bend,
you rest an elbow's edge
on my shoulder, content;
smiling to the day's gossip?
Copyright © Indrakhi Mandal | Year Posted 2016
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Details |
Indrakhi Mandal Poem
I know you had made me dance that night.
You must have
Twirled me around;
My surprised body whirling
Alongst yours in a daze.
Your hand must have
Circled my shy waist;
My hesitant bosom crushing
Against your cotton-shirted chest.
My awkward hands must have hung
Timidly at your back;
My two-left-feet tangling
With your firm, sure steps.
But its funny how, you know
I remember none of those things.
All that's left now
Are just snapshots of smells-
Of the Old Monk on your breath
And those endless cigarettes,
Yesterday's aftershave
Melting into today's sweat.
Copyright © Indrakhi Mandal | Year Posted 2016
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