LOPAMUDRA MISHRA

LOPAMUDRA 

MISHRA

TOPIC- CONFUSION

My thumb is bleeding ,wounded by the edge of dagger,

I crawled in pain thinking about my faults again and again,

Feels stranded in chess board,

surrounded by soldiers and ministrants,

Then I checked my race ,disrupted by high rise mountain range,

The words like knife sheath my nave,just could mumble few grumbling tape,

My identity is at stake,feels year long struggling will take a break,

I know my silence is hurting my chest,

The burning sensation in heart could only beep about my doomed fate,

The person whom I trust ,accuses me insane,as I carried away with some appreciative words in its place,

Is this fair ???

My mind just engaged in gruesome battles,

Analysing my image in front of glass in different angles,

The rose so sweet earlier now I bruised by heat rays,

Leave,

My mind say but the confusion which heaps to triplets,

Ask me ??

Am I not close to you ,search your reflections in broken mirror frame,

See, I am a flamboyant butterfly,love to fly ,never crossed my wired fence,

Just played with the dancing flowers and sips the nectar which satisfy my demands

But your words moved me to tears,unstable were the steps of mine ,

Rolling in bed I started examining my silhouettes frame,

Now in confusion I ask for my faults??

‪PARTITION OF HEART

The gold particles releases its heat,

So hot they are that my fingers were unable to hold it through its grip,

The budding particles with its newly sprouted mission choose to skip,

But me,who preserved them in my secret chamber,becomes lonely in cloudy sky and drown to grief,,

Lonely to count my days in fingertips,thinking and praying for my dears well being,

The time burned as candle, ,leaving the melted wax in frame in its shield,,

The wax ,in a dismantled state speaks through its crumbled frame,

My love precious than any metal , crossed my cemented boundary with a leap,

Awestruck I! remained cool to weave my wool in loom,

Just now I realised time’s speedy race,it has no brake to slow its race,

Now my world is going to change its colour and shape,

Once filled with buzzing cheers,now will maintain silence,

The album in book rack stored some close moments intact,

You moved ahead ,while your parents hold you close to heart and rejoice with past days,,

For you my child, it’s a memory but for my mother’s heart its you her jewellery,

Neither your tantrums bother me neither your whims ,but the partition of you matters me,

My child ,my love! it will be very difficult for me to stay apart,

Still I will never show my weakness to you as I know your success is my only concern and view,

Partition is physical and momentary ,time is the healer ,so as my absurd thinking about all this is secondary.

RECIPE LOST IN STORIES

I was fascinated by rural life,

As my forefathers left their place and moved for urban life,

We seldom go,visits our relatives and return with hunting memories,

I heard Papa's anguish for our ancestral home,

Now deserted and neglected lying to mourn,

He dreams to settle their after his retirement,

But dreams and reality clash to an extent that forced him to settle with urban flow,

Still his heart beats for village folk lore,temple galore,and many more,

His daily evening stories for us bears a new event from his nostalgic page,

I get carried away by it,imagines myself as a part of the place,

His depth of narration brings tears to my eyes,

Could always feel perhaps Papa too regrets for Grandpa,

Why he fascinated for pseudo lifestyle,

If ever he finds time he make us realise our forgotten roots,

Tells Mum to prepare the lost recipe now withdrawn from kitchen menu,

Then assists Mum to prepare the item ,

Guiding her to maintain the taste of village venue,

But the lost flavour is lost in the aroma of dreams,

I heard him say the flavour was better but this is just its replica,

Unity he mentions in his tales among the village folk,

I never witnessed it among the urban show,

The web of thoughts I carry from childhood dragged my youth to the village gate,

But I found the same urban folk here,

The simplicity I was fascinated now vanished

And replaced with modern technique and gadgets,

The lost recipe is for ever lost in woods ,

While fast food took an usurp role,

The ethics and etiquettes wear a new look,

Change in lifestyle ,with modern pattern,

The aroma of curry is same as my urban home.

LOPAMUDRA MISHRA