The Gulmohar Marg

When I traverse

This lane of lushness…

Under this shed of shadow…

Every evening…

I behold,

This gush of rare breeze-

And the petals that plunge-

Of the Gulmohar bloom-

On this tarred road…

As I stroll-

Through this tunnel of trees!

The blur shade of couples

In the distant-

Walking, too…

I speculate not-

The ruthless air-

And,

Improbable chance-

Like the gush of breeze

And the blush of petals!

Must be unleashing

Their souls!

This shed-

Must have witnessed

The generation of us-

Roaming underneath

Hopeless thoughts,

Occupied solitude-

And failed attempts…

Their sad shadows-

Must have touched-

The boughs of the Gulmohar-

I less wonder…

“Off for the walk?”

A friend of mine yells-

The clatter of that cycle-

“Yes, I am done for the day”

I whisper-

The Gulmohar Marg

On the backdrop…

I less wonder, again-

About this wonder!

I progress…

Sanjeeta Sharma Pokharel "Hridayaninadini"

To the walkway- The Gulmohar Marg

of IISc.

6:10pm-13th June,2014

MRDG

Photocredits:https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQUHYAksmqnwP59ph1DU75FqAAs2Dz1gfUJQdYklbSPdfVqAwUBOu2D37Oz5ndBSbAH2erH059-8iPSoQ5cuKzKNJS5-WBqVEuIUsz87XBFAHUiglPwt-xY2BtTppPN-gS5n_dZu4nnL0/s1600/gulmohar_walk.JPG

http://thumbs.imagekind.com/2360693_650/Royal-Poinciana-Tree-Painting.jpg?v=1390564800

Apology

Sleepless, I called…

to,

That dozen of sombre nights,

When I found myself-

Lost-

In the loneliness, in that crowd!

In the darkness, under those lights!

I searched for the verses

That I lost-

And the rhyme

That hates me now!

With the words-of-meaningless worth!

To find that poetry-

In the flow of the river-

That shall never end!

On the street of homeless hopes

Where lays the dreamless eyes…

And in the cries of destitute-

Those passed by!

I paid no attention to them,

I blame this pensiveness,

In me!

For it was-

When I was caught in-

The bewilderment…

Of the stars that twinkled

On the reflection of that sky...

Yon, on the sea!

And I pretended-

As if,

I was not deluded!

They hate me, now

The rhymes in me-

For the verses, I wrote-

Never stopped the flow so deep

Gave no dreams to that homeless chap,

And I still can heed those cries…

I wrote for the mortals-

For their filthy praise and claps!

I consoled my poetry,

As it gently pushed me away,

The disgust in that doggerel,

It left me-

In this space with no cohort…

Still, I stood accompanied-

In the throngs of thoughts and me!

I promise,

For one day I shall write-

The verse that-

Shall bring down the lethal conceit

With the words of delight-

I fear not breaking the pen-

If the wrong path, it follows

Through that dreary lane-

And to something that’s hollow-

I promise,

For one day I shall write-

Rhyme that shall opt-

The rhythm of rhyme-

And the verse that shall hold-

The tempo of time!

If you see,

That poetry-

passing by...

Through the worn-out curtains of that window,

Through the shadow of that broken lantern,

And the fences, the lovers hold-

Do not forget to convey-

My words-

“I am still waiting

On the street of homeless hopes”

Sanjeeta Sharma Pokharel "Hridayaninadini"

I miss the monsoon...

Credits:

http://www.gandynet.com/art//Masters/RyanBrown/images/600/TheLonelinessOfWaiting40x70.jpg