Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Broken yet Intact.

A couple of days back while I was taking my regular stroll in the lunch time; I found this beautiful box beneath a tree. Out of habit, I immediately clicked a picture of it thinking it to be a beautiful addition to my FB album ‘In and around office’. I have created this photo album in order to preserve the moments and memories associated with my office before they just fade away to oblivion. I was very curious to know what was inside the box and actually went out to check back if somebody has dared to open it or not. Call it superstition or concern, I did not touch it. Neither did I go nearer to it once I was done with happily clicking it. :) But the curiosity never left me alone and haunted me till I created my own story revolving around it. So here on the second day of the A-Z Challenge, I present the story I weaved around it. I was adamant to write a poem on it though unlike before verses do not come to me anymore. This also happens to be my first experience where I have attempted to write a poem forcibly and hence not at all happy with it. But then right now my motto is only to write, write, and write. And hence here I present my tad bit long and un-lyrical poem to you all. If only it could be called a poem at all. 

Somewhere between life and death, 
Hangs this murky land 
Where broken pieces of memories 
From the bygone era stay. 
They don’t grow, nor do they die 
But their heartbeats cease to sway. 
I was told to wander here no more 
As detachment was the key. 

Broken were they, one by one 
With every hit of stone. 
They took their turn to bereave me of you 
By hitting on my soul. 
I was silent, but they hauled 
Till I was left with none. 
O! How to tell them for they don’t know 
The process to take you away. 

Broken pieces of memories 
Now lay scattered across my feet 
Blood and tear and some silent cries 
Have left their traces to read 
One by one, I picked them up 
Red, yellow, and green 
I stashed them up for many years to come 
In a wooden chest decaying. 

Thirty years have passed like that 
With entrapped memories in heart 
Piece by piece they still shimmer 
When they catch the glimpse of light 
But My life will be over in days to come 
O! What will I take along with me? 
Only the memories stashed in my heart 
And the pieces of my broken dreams. 

The son is here with the box in hand 
Followed by his wife. 
My feeble eyes could read her face 
Marked with ominous fear. 
I smiled, for the world still does not know 
How to take you away from me. 

Now the box full of memories 
Red, yellow, and green 
Rest beneath the tree 
Life moves on. 
Gaps get filled 
Making spaces for the new. 

Bangles, bangles, bangles everywhere 
As the symbol of the 'Pure'
But broken ones find a place 
Only in the shore. 
For bangles once broken 
Though they shimmer and shine
Are auspicious no more.