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Personal Note:

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Poem

With a huge geometry of bones and ribs
my father stands amidst us,
like an age-old iron pillar,
high durable, tensile and unbrittle
he is, the lonesome cantilever.

Though I know not,
perhaps he could be in immense pain,
or suffering from his terrible wounds;
but neither I feel nor touch
as I fear;
may be I his last crutch
or be the solve of sandal paste
on this body for ever.

Though I know nothing,
perhaps, for the sake of ‘oil and salt’ world;
he’d be even ready
to sleep on the bed of thousand arrows
and at the same time
he hides every sensitive worldly elements 
within him, as far as
a star fish does every time
when it comes across a danger.

And always, I cannot move over
to his world of desires,
it’s the same show
the same grief
day after day.


The foot prints of his journey through life
are not lost in the sand storms of poverty
and in my mind as well.
Like the third bank of ever flowing river
Like a lonely Oar of way lost solitary boat
Like a distant star in the dark sky
Like a defiant soldier in battlefield 
My father-
with dry tears and black blood
in his toil and lethal hands
continues his combat fight
against treacherous time
and treadle fate.

And with a twingle of hope against hope,
I feel every odds of life
and promise to myself a thousand times
‘I can be a nearby dawn
to remove the everlasting dark night’,
as  my thoughts don’t go
with the distanced sun.

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