Does your sanity remain intact
In its fullest sum total
Or it does fall apart
When the hands of time
Tap on your shoulder
And enlighten you with
The terrible fact that
‘You’ means disaster
When you leave your address
For truth to be found
And miles and miles
You do walk
Twisting and turning your searching eyeballs
Yet is not caught a trace of truth
Does your sanity then remain intact
In its fullest sum total
Or it does fall apart?
When the hallowing darkness howls
And driven are your eyes
Groping and finding a flint
Yet not is discovered an iota of it
And when you reach your fag end
Does your sanity then remain intact
In its fullest sum total
Or it does fall into pieces?
©jeyforyou

So it goes this way
Somebody was bellowing
Water bubbles into the air
A stupid me being guided
By the procession of buubles
Followed the trajectory
To find its source
Goodness! said my eyes
This old man doing this childish stuff?
Closer I went to and asked,
“Isn’t your act is the antithesis of your matured wisdom?
The wrinkled faced beamed.
“Freeing the things bound” came out the voice.
It once struck a chord somewhere in the cardiac territory.
And then I began to find me in the swarm of bubbles.
©jeyforyou

Once a face said,
“You are born to win”.
He beamed and replied,
“I’m born to burn”.
“Why you always sound so gloomy”?
She returned with.
As cool as ever
He in a didactic note said,
“Flame is the product of burning
The very source of light chasing darkness
And warmth saving from
The chill of Life
Is life a synonym of sitting on couch
And relishing on cheese popcorn
With a dark giant bottle of Cock?”
“No”, said she
“Then be a phoenix.
Let the aroma of your cinders
Envelop you and take you
To the world undystopian”, his tongue struck.
©jeyforyou

When the traffic of thoughts
Gears up and I get stuck about
The confines that I make
And headlong do I fall
Yet not hurt but happy am I
Set for the moon yet check
The milestones validating my journey
No!No!No! No validation required
The conscious, preconscious and unconscious
All over overlapping
Seduced I am not to believe
In the speedometer.
“Avoid this distraction”
That’s what they ramble
“Run!Run!Run!”
Breathlessly do I sprint
Hoping to sweep away the finishing point
O my Lord! Thou art most divine.
©jeyforyou

Last night they fluttered
And yelled into my ears
“How long will you be in sleep?
Wake up and give your life a steer”.
Pregnant with fright rose up my eyes
And began to telescope
The source of the cries
After countless circular trips around
Eyeballs registered their discovery
Beside my subdued pillow
Lay the book bellowing
The wisp of resentment
For being left bare in the winter night while I in the velvety comfort
And then I realised
Whatever you give your brutally honest time to
It becomes truly yours
And of all the relations the most sacred
Is between I and my books
They never act likes of truant school goers
I once become theirs
They become mine forever
Every relation requires time and a true ‘you’
So do the inscribed pages.
©jeyforyou

A sunny Sunday morning
Right after my breakfast
I chose to sit in the open lawn
Against the cold some warmth to don
And then all of a sudden
I plunged into the pool of retrospection
How when I was a young
My mom gave me a mustard oil bath
With full body massage in the sunlight
The winter chill shivered Infront of motherly warmth
But time in its winged chariot
Noiselessly passed on and on
Poets say,time ravages evrything
So do the historians and anthropologists
But O Mother! You love defied time
Still your love and warmth are more constant than Sun
After many winters and summers
That caused so much of physical,mental and emotional changes
In me but thought art still the same
Your love and affection is ageless
Thou art beyond time and space.
I feel thy warmth everywhere.
Now do I sense
The ubiquity of thy compassion.
©jeyforyou

A sharpened axe time is
Each day I am slit
Into pieces too many to gather
Yet being coerced
Do I have to pick up the slain pieces
A dexterous weaver time is
So meticulously but pitilessly
Does it entangle me into
Its ever complicating web
Of utter perplexity and pains
When no medics with their
Pharmaceutical Knowhow can cure
So do I nothing but endure
©jeyforyou

The moment I call on my home
And have a glance of Mom
I call her out.
How mellifluous the word mother sounds
Her ‘ yes honey’ travels into my ears
And I get carried to a world so sublime
That pains and anxiety accumulated over the time recede surreptitiously
Then I am not me.
©jeyforyou

When I was young, very young of nine summers I would go to my nativeland during summer break of my school. But problem would come when I had my return journey back. That day I could the anxiety and unease on my mother’s face. I always thought why my mother made this much of fuss about my return journey. May be I was too young to undertake the pain and heartache of my mother or my dad.

Even for last few springs Bags would be equally fussy on the day of my return journey. I always beheld it too melodramatic. But recently I booked my dad’s ticket to Kolkata. He was to leave for Kol after one and a half year. He is old now and now we take care of him like a young child is behaved with. So on the day of his journey I was extremely anxious. There was a rush. Packing was done. And every now and then I had to make sure that nothing had been left behind to packed. Somehow I could go to drop him off but I sent my younger brother. And I was like, “papa,be vigilant, wallet Sahi se rakhna aap and phone ko raate mein bag mein Rakh dena.” And he was like ” Beta, baccha nh hun main. I am 64 aur 50 Saal se travel Kar raha Hun”. My worry knew no bound . On where is my train app I checked the the train running status every now and then and called him spasmodically.

For the first time he is not at home during my holidays. For the last four years since I started working full time , he was with me in my holidays when I was at home. Today,I am missing him so very badly. He is so much a part of me that I always feel incomplete. His mere shadow works more than anything in my life. A father, friend and brother, mentor and what not. He is Abbu.

I believe we all have a dad like him across the globe. Don’t your heart beat for your dad?

Be it a village or a city, life is complex everywhere. Cries, laughter, nobility and savagery- these are ubiquitous. Flabbergasted I was when I saw a very old lady, so old that she could not get older anymore. Skinny to the moon and back. She looked so white as if she was wrapped in a thin foamy flake. I was walking through a narrow lane when my eyes fell on a small door ajar and that old frail figure enwrapped in snow white skin was washing clothes. I ceased and got frozen there. I could never imagine a lady like her washing clothes. A volley of questions thronged my mind. Whose clothes was she washing? They could not be hers. I could see that she was not able to hold the piece of cloth and thump on the floor. She was panting as if she was on a sprint.

I hid my self behind the wall. I could hear the pendulum people made inside the house. Soon my senses worked and I understood the whole scene.The lady sweating and panting out at the door was not a maid but an old weak mother. A mother discarded like a piece of shit. All the summers, winters, springs and autumns she lived, she did nothing but nourishment. But today it seemed that life is more a folly and less a virtue.

Are mothers around not subjected to the same selfish brutality?