JYOTIRMAYA THAKUR
THE BLINDS
(Tessalated
prose poem)
The modern
windows have beautiful designed blinds made of chosen fabrics that hide the
beauty or ugliness of the outside views . The Nature is faked or landscapes are
woven or digital prints imprinted on the texture according to the taste of the
interior decorator or the master of the house. The modern living has cloned
everything possible to create an ambience suitable to create an atmosphere of
corrupted happiness. Humans don't want
to look outside their closed minds and want everyone to behave according to
their whims and caprice. There is a raging ambition only to earn money and
display this in their material possessions.
The children are bought by gifts or paid to obey and respect their
elders . The parents or grandparents bribe their children to love them by
treating them to their desires of goods , toys , clothes and other
accessories. The mall is a great place
for family gatherings where the younger learns to get the best bargains and
elders eat outside so there is need to earn surplus money . A vicious chain of
spending and earning like demand and supply is embedded in the tapestry of modern living. Branded
products are the craze of this ever hungry generation . On the other hand
people are dying of hunger and starvation.
Hunger rules all lives , some for money and ironically some for real
food. The winter has settled in the heart of the cold children , where love and
kindness has been replaced by greed . The festivals lack the fervour of
togetherness and bonding . It is now more of a ritual of wrapped gift giving
and receiving . The more expensive the gift ,bigger is the genuine smile and hugging. I have lost interest in giving
and receiving such gifts , therefore lost touch with many of my relatives and
kindred. We all have to pay a price for our authentic existence to keep the
blinds either inside or outside .
Blind
Alley
The alley
of lovers is blind as she rides on sensual dreams of passion and pleasure. She
swirls and circles like clouds in hope of swallowing a rainbow of smiles touching horizons.
Sometimes it flies on tides of rapturous emotions on nebulous slides of thoughts
and themes. The moon in reverie is espying on dimensional zones of crossroads
where it has multiple choice of reviews. The Esplanade offers previews to the
beach and calm shores in summer night. The golden night glides and guides the
intruders to the explicit views via doors of generosity. The exquisite love of unrequited soul soars
high on the moonbeam of prayers to find a mountain shoulder to lean on. The
cries and wailing of forgotten lovers waiting for healing in graveyards ,where
fresh flowers are fragrant . The blind alley listens to the blind beggar
singing erratically for his sleeping companion to wake up . The only
distraction is the excessive horning of the new driver who is hopping and
popping in every unknown corner of this
narrow turning. The background is a fusion of cobblestone and lampost flickering due to fluctuation of scenes . The
raw feeling of the blushing dawn is pink with shame as it can perceive all the
illusion created in the darkness of night. The sparks of noisy sparrows react at
the dandy big birds flapping their wings in open sky. The birth of a new day
leads to disappointment of many nights
of endless yearning.
Blind Tree
The blind
tree of winter is totally devoid of any clothing . It stands splendidly in its
nakedness like a starved , famished being completely unaware of its impression.
The toned body is reddened by hard labour to fight against the cold west winds
. It is still kind enough to let the birds hop on its branches and claw on to
it , although it bleeds . The redness swells to form an artful form of
whirlpools which is a gummy sweet for children and birds. The magnanimity of
the tree is sight less and taken for granted like the grandparents . The Spring
will replenish it's leaves and it will be more comfortable in sightseeing. But
the Sun will become more penetrating as the shade will hide the beauty of the
grass and flowers growing beneath it. The Winter Sun never gets to see the
threads of affection spreading under the damp old body of this ghost of a
tree.The blindness is a light that enlightens hope in many dark hearts .
LOST VALLEY
(
Tessellated prose poem )
Listen to
the song of breeze in the silent night of remote past . The lamenting stream
seeks the blue river lost in deep loneliness of the Amazon rainforest . The
blind valley got lost waltzing one day with the wild flowers . The terracotta
army walked in blindfolded with blood and trampled along the coast line vast .
Array of thorny shrubs cut into halves still survived the agony pierced in
their hearts . Drops of dews cried as the petals had no place to be buried in
the graveyards of the sea. The barriers were broken of the tormented shores as
the fury of the winds turned to enormous tears and thundered . The lightning
took pity and burnt the valley of flowers to a barren desert . All habitation
shrunk in a hole and disappeared in a cave which shut it's doors forever. In
the cradle of solitude crystalline tears are embedded on the broken wings of
the mighty mountain where valley sacrificed its existence for peace
Lost Star
In remote mists
of doubts dawns twilight in transition of glowing gold. The aroma of dreams cradles as the lost sight
of the night. A distant star lost in the velvety evening remotely shines shyly
sinking. The restlessness of the stardust pious bending enlivens the sky
bed.Unveiled Moon sparkling smiles as the wind adorns the waves in a gush . The
solemn oath of love crowning the stars finds a way for their lost stars in the
ocean of perfections. Reminiscences of
their birth has a secret ceremony recording the celestial celebrations. The key
to the disappointment of disappearance lies somewhere in between the words of
Sun and Moon. Stars like the poets write to reach phenomenal heights in the
pandemonium of chaotic darkness. All stars twinkling in the firmament while a
lonely one in separation dangling in magnificence.The darkest nights brings
back the artist star back to its original glory. The portrait is then adorned by this single
star on the forehead of the blue sky . The fleecy clouds then lament in pitch
darkness of sight less dreams . The sky embellished from top to toe by the
sandy horizon glitters to launch the masterpiece of the lost star before the
Sun illuminates another massacre of the innocents on Earth.
Lost
Rhythm
Life is
always full of sweet rhythms scripting the story on pages of history before we
die. Memories flow in the hymns of breathing songs of breeze in snow. Sighs of
journey halt in a lyrical show and let go off the past miseries stored.Drops of
dews in darkness swing to change the day in radiance of wings . A bawdy virgin
like sunshine rises to be danced upon by
trumpets call placing her intuitive charms in selfless harps. The
sapling woods in sounds and scents bring showers of promise from Heaven above .
The angels rejoice and sing on stars in unexpected scholarly music of arms. The
minstrels scream a chorus fighting the fading light erasing fiction of the
night. The shield and sword create echoes of chivalry of backyard battles long
gone. The colours of forest breathes in unreachable curves lost in the deserts
of velvety expectations . The naïve song is on a noble quest yearning for a
grand conquest. Blinded in the trap of
modern panorama lacking rhyme or reason for any campaign . Love engraved in
hearts of lovers lost its rhythm in saxophone wilderness tracing petals on
ghosts of wind pipes.
PORTRAIT OF MY SOUL
The
mystery of life is in the labyrinth of my soul which is a wonder to gaze upon
in complete solitude of my existence. From deep inside in solitary moments
speaks the voice that resonates and whispers the beauty of truth . A faint silence of infinite knowledge
emerges from the silhouette of imperceptible past of centuries layered to
emerge when called upon. The memories of a millennium etched forever are not
lost but irrecoverable within to solve all pain and suffering in fragments of
faith .My soul steadily stays mute till beckoned with invincible spirit of hope
and grace.It is always in union with love and understanding of a loving
presence .The timeless essence of the portrait of the soul stands tall in a
stupor of spiritual consciousness. We humans swim adrift until the eternal
evanescence of light within show us the path inwards to our selfless beats of
divine presence . And then in a flash of an epiphany intersects and scatters
the innumerable dialogues that takes place in mystery of darkness . The
indefinite sea of words are meaningless for communication. This beautiful
connection was never lost nor gone . It was all the time happening , calling in
moments of enlightenment in sublime silence.
INTOXICATION WITH LIFE
(A prose
poem )
From
childhood I recollected and relived the
moments I savoured with my grandparents , cousins or friends . I cherished the
hugs and gifts of kindness much later like a beautiful dream lived . Even now I
am suspended in the moment , flickering images evanesced with time. How
passionately we love everything that is temporary and transitory , that cannot last. The dazzling
crystallory of Winter, the fresh blooms of Spring, the lilies of Summer, the
flights of glowing worms on rainy nights . The first kiss of love , flirting
eyes , a pat on the back, a hug by a beautiful stranger and life of fragile
flights of butterflies. Deep within us , there remains a sense of nostalgia for
that moment gone , that instant of euphony and blossoming . An exquisite moment
where we lived outside the mundane and ordinary .Nostalgia hovering
precariously in open space, caged forever in the subconscious as whirlwind of
memories piercing in solitude. When we lived beyond time and space, beyond any
law of the Universe. A breaking upon the interminable cosmic dance to
experience moments of intensity ,almost reckless euphoria. It is the moment of
intoxication with life.
Jyotirmaya Thakur @copyright
reserved.
INEXPLICABLE SONATA
I have a
strong urge to fly with the wind or float like the fallen leaves to unknown
destinations. Seeing a sunrise I want to turn crimson and be filled with golden
sunlight . As I see the birds in a line flying back home at dusk , I want to go
home too. I want to fly freely on airless wings very high to see what the sky
looks like above the clouds . I want to abandon the dark shadows of life to
unlock the mystery of another world where only pure ecstasy resides . My heart
believes in such a world of pure love untarnished by any fate or karma. I want
to find bliss living consciously attached to only to the present moment
untainted by past sorrows or pain. I want to be a different person untouched by
unrequited love or rejection of being unwanted . I want to feel the chaos of
the mind without trepidation or fear of the unknown. I want to drink the water
of crystal springs to become immortal and not fear death . I want to explore
the mystery of life and write the history of death to make it mortal. I want to
catch the exquisite moments of childhood curiosity and courage to do the
impossible. I want to flow like a river
in moonbeams in the heart of wild forests . I want to see a spider lily bloom
in the night and dance with the stars . And despite my shadows of
loneliness I suddenly cry in
inexplicable pleasure of a nostalgic experience of sonata .
Jyotirmaya Thakur @copyright
reserved.
JYOTIRMAYA THAKUR:
JYOTIRMAYA THAKUR: Author of twelve original Poetry
books , Jyotirmaya Thakur is the first Indian born poetess to be published by
Real Vision Aspirant Writers Publication,UK. An award winning author and poet
,she has served as a Vice -Principal (retired ) of an International school in
India, an editor, reviewer, researcher, columnist,public speaker, Reiki Master
, Spiritual and social activist. She is currently Project Head and Chief editor
of East India for Impish Lass Publication. She is the President of Prose Poetry
Writers Group of -ARCS- magazine,National Director of Public Relations and
Communications of Union Hispano Mundial de Escritores ,Peru,in India . Chief
counsellor of Telangana Poetry forum ,administrator of 16, member of jury of 7
and invited as judge for English Co -curricular activities in schools &
colleges .An executive member of the educational magazine LITERATI and a
columnist. She is a member of Wolf International Poetry Exhibition group of UK,
where her poems are exhibited in various art galleries, Literary clubs and public places .
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