Some Day

Some day, 

I hope I'd break free 

To be a child again, 

No holds barred 

No longer having to feign smiles,

No need to set alarms,

No jotting down to-do notes, 

No need to hurry through the tea-cup unfinished

No creaseless shirts and creased foreheads, 

No running back-to-back calls,

No wasting time at airports, 

No stays at lifeless five-starred hotels

Yet not a single star to blink at.

Some day, 

I hope to break free 

To run, riot, and live like a child! 

Some day,

I hope to see the child come to life, in me, 

To get a spark of a smile,

A hug for a hug,

Get to kick into the fields, and shake up the dust,

Or play with the gravels as we walk,

Back from school, 

Stop by the hawkers to pick a ball of churan,

Or the frail frame of the sharbat-ra chacha,

For a stick of handmade kala-khatta,

Or the long hours to spend with my own,

Not a wrinkle of worry about time, 

Gossip away about so many things

And branch into silly nothings,

Not getting shy,

To let my hair down

Even if that meant being silly! 

Some day

I hope to be a child again,
Relive the fun, happiness, and life

To get around on my cycle,

To rush to my favourite hunt, 

As my heart pounded hard, 

As hope matched the pace of my breath,

To get to meet my moon,

That November evening,

As the fields courted the dew,

And bathed in the golden moonlight, 

As I stocked up my reserves of smiles

Until the next full moon, 

Or the journey by the Mahanadi banks,

Cherishing the moments, 

Of the silence of that evening,

To be broken only by the beats of hearts,

And the nervous locking of glances,

That continues to dance across my eyes

Many winters after. 

How I long 

To be a child again, 

To be back with the precious gems of life, 

To the unhindered passions,
And the restive thoughts

To the fleeting frames of smiles

On the long passionate evenings

And the longer endless nights, 

With a nip in the air,

And a bit of warmth that blew along from memory, 

As I lie in wait to be a child, again, 

Some day! 

© Sashikant Mohanty

What If

As I stretch on the charpoy

And reflect upon the day that was,

Look back at the battered roads,

And the choices I made, 

The turns I took and the bends I didn't,

To get where I stood, 

That full moon night, 

Along with the cool breeze,

Swung in a silly thought -

What if!

As my tired head sank into the warmth

Of my pillow,

As I tossed and turned,

And sleep played one more game

Of hide and seek,

Many faces lapped up into a dance,

Those that came in many colours,

Those that changed many, 

And many that were hidden from eyes 

Tucked away neatly behind several layers, 

Many words slipped up my ears,

Those that were said, but many that weren't

As my failing ears  joined the tired eyes, 

My mind had turned too weary,

To find an answer

To a wavering thought -

What if! 

When I lay on the green velvet,

Under the moonlit sky,

When the patches of cloud

Came and went,

When marigolds sparkled up a shine at night, 

And the moon tossed on the lake,

And my face turned moist that dewy night,

A gust of breeze blew in an eerie thought, 

From many winters back

When evenings were chill,

And cravings strong, deep and warm, 

When thoughts learnt to take wings,

And the air reminded of smells and sounds,

That's when a shooting star crossed the sky

And left me with a thought -

What if!

© Sashikant Mohanty 

A Stubborn Question

As the sunflower waits for the Sun to rise,

And follows it all through its journey,

All the way until it sinks back into the horizon,

The child in me joins the ones with me,

Gazing in awe

What a lovely creation,

The glowing yellow with spray of black Bindi,

As it comes to life, soft and sublime,
Submitting to the regal sun,

As I close my eyes to  seal the moment,

A queer thought also gets sealed in my heart,

Is sunflower the reason the Sun's so adorable? 

As odes are composed,
Tributes paid,
On Teachers' Day,
And their role celebrated,
Faces flash by from memories,
Those that sowed the seeds,
And chiseled, polished, to get the shine in you,
As you flipped the pages
It didn't matter where memory ended and stories came alive.
As frames kept tossing on in my mind,
A stubborn question wouldn't let me sleep -
Would Drona still have  made it to the lofty heights,
Had it not been for Ekalavya's sacrifice?

As the Gods are worshipped
And Hymns and Bhajans chanted,
Praising the Lord,
His blessings, and the miracles,
God, you must be great
To have created the creation,
Day, night, smile and tears,
Love, hate, greed, and man,
But God, you must answer me -
Were you as grand,
Before your devotees commanded 'hail the Lord!'

Tell me God,

Who came first - you or the creation!

© Sashikant Mohanty

Sometimes, If Not Everyday

So what if it isn't a perfect knot,

It's such a special one, nevertheless,

The smell of your hair,

Your necklace getting stuck in my buttons,

As you tried to reach around my neck, 

The gingerly attempts when you got it mixed up

And the smile when you finally got it right, 

Would rub off on me long after.

Sometimes, do it again to me, again,

Pamper me sometimes, if not always!

So what if your fingers aren't strong,

So what if their touch may not wipe off the pain,

But their warm touch, 

Running through my head

Naughtily teasing my salt-and-pepper hair,

Returns the smile to the weary eyes,

And to my tired mind,

How it rings in fond memories 
Of lazy evenings, 

When I'd rest my head on your lap,
Can't you walk up to my bed, sometimes

Let your fingers do the magic again, 

Sometimes, if not every day!

So what if the moon and the stars,

Don't get your heart to miss a beat, 

So what if the soft breeze sweeping the clouds 

Mean little to you,

But the magic of your steaming ginger tea

Is no less intoxicating.

Why don't you just drag me to the balcony,

When the moon's flaunting its charm,

And the soft breeze, soothing for effect,

Why don't you try your charm,

Sometimes, if not every Friday!

The packing of my bags,

The reminding of my medicines,

The shoving of biscuit packets,

The buttoning up of my shirt,

The uncomfortable silence when it's time to part
Yet your eyes would give it away 

And you still thought you're not good at it.

Why don't you do it all the same,

So it makes me feel a little more wanted,

So that I take a bit of you along,

So that you stay close to me,

Even while you're not

Sometimes, 

If not every day!

© Sashikant Mohanty