Another Year

the last few lines,
wait to be penned
on the last page,
and, another diary
would join the racks
of history.

another year
of joys and smiles,
of tears and partings,
of cravings,
and adieus,
of meetings
and anxiety,
of pains and heal,
and scars that didn't,
of hugs and hope,
of friends to lean on,
and many that weren't -
will merge
with the canvas
of memories.

another prayer
is whispered,
a fresh resolution
made,
a glimmer of hope
rekindled,
a new dream
weaved,
another wish
lipped,
upon the star.

another lonely star
blinked,
a bead of warmth
trickled,
I shook in nod.
I know,
mine's smiling!



© Sashikant Mohanty

The Last Parting

they hugged tight
into a warm cuddle,
did little to hide
the passion and the fears,
before he let go of her hands,
before he walked away,
but, his feet still not willing.
his heart sank
as he resented his fate
kicking a pebble,
and he felt
the pounding of his heart,
with many a strange question
do we meet ever again!

she curled up her lips
into a silent warm smile -
the best she could gift,
before she took her eyes off.
her lips turned still,
maybe dry,
and her eyes moist, and blood-red
her mind lost in thoughts,
and her steps wandering away.
she felt her knees give way
but refused to turn,
muttering and mumbling
hell, I can't see him weak!

the train bellowed
once more,
trying one last time,
the blare tore through
the dark still airs,
and the smell of smoke
pierced through the mist,
and through her heart,
as she stood numb,
numb to the chilly December airs.
as the wheels clanked,
and the engine chugged away,
she shuddered,
at the thought of endless wait, sinking in,
she teared up with pain.
as the winds slapped him hard,
and his thoughts froze,
he gazed into the emptiness
leaning against the chill door,
and a lifeless God!



© Sashikant Mohanty

Waiting For My Shadow

As walks got brisk,
As pre-dawn runs took place of
the lazy dusk walks,
As slippers lost their place in the racks
To the sneakers,
When finding joy in the gentle breeze
was replaced by the thrill of races,
When the trains' clanking,
And the smoke from the chimneys
stopped ringing in memories,
We also stopped meeting
My shadow and me!

As the nests got bigger,
And the souls fewer,
When we stopped waking up
To blue skies, half-hidden by the clouds,
When the house felt chill
On mid-summer afternoons,
And the whirring of the compressor
replaced the noisy chatter,
As the cane chairs gathered dust
in the verandah,
When piping-hot tea lost its charm,
We stopped meeting
My soul and me!

As I turn old,
And my calves beg to slow down,
As my heart takes a pause,
And the branches sway,
to return my kiss,
As the little bird hums up a song,
When the smoke ushered in
Rolls of smoke from the huts,
Behind silhouettes of the home-bound carts,
And rings in
Flashes of memories,
Can someone tell my shadow
I'm waiting for her!!



 © Sashikant Mohanty

A Small Diwali Wish

lamps and flickering lichu lights
have always decked up your balconies,
how about the dancing flames
kindle a few more homes, today.

the smell of the crackers
have kept you longing, every year
how about the crackers and rockets
get a few more hearts racing, this year.

your house runs out of space
these few days,
how about the sweets reach a few homes
that have run out of food for many days!



© Sashikant Mohanty

I May Be Down Today

i may be down today,

a bit lonely,

yes, it hurts

to bide time

when in endless wait,

drift through the lanes, 

waiting for my stars to shine,

but deep somewhere in me

i know it firm,
and I smile at it

it wasn't always this,

won't forever be!



© Sashikant Mohanty

Look The Other Way

if you are wronged,
look the other way,
remember the little acts
of kindness.
after all
a heart of gold
should have a few stains
lest the world
turn green with envy!



© Sashikant Mohanty

Diwali Won't Be The Same

The flowers don't bloom anymore,
The way they would,
The guava tree gave up before you did,
She didn't have the strength to live
Without the hand that cared,
The manuscripts don't spring into life,
Each morning,
The way they would.
None to look forward to.


Diwali nights were never about crackers,
Your words ring fresh in my ears,
The memories still rife,
The sugar candies,
The smile, and the colorful animal shapes,
The decking up with oil-lit diyas,
The running to the terrace
To light those that were blown out by breeze,
The sweets that Bou prepared for the pujas,
The prayers that you prepared us for,
Prayers for the departed, your father,
And his,
Fading into the noise,
And the smells of rubble and smoke.


This Diwali would be different,
None to bring the sugar candies home,
From watching us pace to shield the diyas,
And the flickering flame,
You've switched sides,
Become one of them.
This puja would be different,
Who'll remind the verses?
You've switched sides, Bapa
To be with your father,
And his.



© Sashikant Mohanty

Few Houses, Many Homes

Few houses, many homes

Few friends, too many to call one bestie 

Few games, boundless happiness 

Few books, many lifelong lessons

Few sweets, many tastes

Few lights, much brighter Diwali

Few colours, Holi never got better

Few holidays, huge rush of nostalgia

Few letters, millions of emotions

Few words, many understood

Few feelings, many degrees of closeness

Few colours, countless colourful memories

Few dreams, unrelenting hopes

Few sheets, unwavering warmth

Few special, that stirred the chords 

Few people, many hearts that beat for you!

Few be the friends, countless the stories

Few houses, many homes! 

 

 © Sashikant Mohanty 

An Unusual Evening

The gathering swelled,
That sombre evening
They came from all walks,
Many that even struggled to walk,
Some that talked the walk
And several that walked the walk.
As the stories flowed,
And the experiences relived,
The taught that were inspired,
The friends that fought,
The flocks that stayed tight, come rain come shine
Each, a different tale, each a special bond.
As I walked them down the aisle,
And, sat them down,
I envied each for taking you away from me!


As I rolled my eyes
Through the sea of humanity,
That eleventh-day evening,
There were tears in many an eye,
Or smiles,
That couldn't hide the swell of emotions,
Sometimes, as they patted,
It reminded of the gentle pat,
As I'd bow before you,
And suddenly the feeling that gripped,
That evening was all about you,
But, where are you, Bapa?


The rains had stopped,
But the moistness hadn't,
The air was tranquil
Amidst the evening of soulful Bhajans,
As if to prep everyone
For an uneasy meeting,
They sank in and sat there for long,
They stayed mum,
With closed eyes,
Each hiding their loss, from the other,
Sometimes long enough
For the teary ones to dry by themselves,
Can't tell if they had resigned to fate,
Maybe, lost themselves,
In memories, they shared with you,
Or, just sat to muster the courage
Maybe rehearsed their pitch,
The toughest in their lives,
For an unusual meeting with you!


The cottage cheese payas 
Was yummy,
They said,
How happy would you have been
To see this, Bapa.
Come, try a small scoop.
It reminded me of the sweet pack
Many eons back,
You'd get, to make up for taking me to task
The sweet that's a living sketch of our feelings.
As I gazed through my blurred vision
At the vacuum,
I muttered -
Sweets will never taste the same, Bapa 
Without you!




© Sashikant Mohanty

Timeless Beauty

I fell in love again,
When I visited you last,
At the start of spring,
Blood racing up my veins
Excitement and nervousness
All packed into one.
I stepped into a warm embrace,
That gentle innocent smile,
With not a crease of expectation,
Not a shade of frown,
Writ on the face,
Only smiles,
And layers of idyllic hills,
And waves of emotions,
The ebbing chill of April, that enveloped us
That spoke a thousand words
And a face that's a portrait
Of timeless beauty!

I could feel the warm breath,
That kissed my chin and ran deep within
My heart and my soul,
As I spent those moments,
Speechless,
Still,
Unfettered,
Just you and me,
As I savored the ageless charm,
Lived the warmest moments of life,
Amid the chill around,
That I'd cherish for the rest of life,
Maybe, many lives after,
The silvery stole that wrapped you,
That sometimes melted
To reveal the layers
Of pines and velvets below,
Each a treat, each a dream.

Sipping the kahwa tea,
Or sitting by the lazy stream,
When the winds gave a hug,
I whispered a promise
To come back,
Be with you,
Live life once again,
Lean against your shoulder,
Rest my head on your lap
When I am on my home stretch,
To live the moments, again,
Feel the warm breath
Close, up my chin, and deep down
In my heart and my soul,
When my time is done!

Tell me,
Will you wear your gleaming smile,
Will you stand in wait,
Draped in the dove-white shawl,
Lend a spring to my feet,
Dance to the breeze, with rows of tulips
When I head back?
With the lines drawn, and the scars etched,
Will you save the warmth, and the chill,
The pristine views,
The spotless roads, the unspoilt breeze,
And the tardy stream,
At the start of spring,
My fond dream,
My paradise,
The Gul, The Gulfam, The Gulshan!



© Sashikant Mohanty

Memory Clock Has Stopped Ticking

The Memory Clock Has Stopped Ticking.

The missing is here to stay,

At your desk, 

Tucked away among heaps of books 

Under the watch of your mother, 

Weaving magic with numbers and problems.

Over the phone,

The unstoppable banter 

The boundless reserves of energy, 

The nasal tone lending an ethereal sweetness.

The bed, 

Where you'd just slow down, 

At best, took a break, maybe rested a bit

But would never slip 

Into a deep slumber. 

The bike,

That's the best match for your hunger, 

Your companion, 

Almost a part of you, it seemed

They changed pace, you never!

The farm, and the fields 

Meant a melodious lullaby, one day, 

A loved one's lap, the other, 

Raised a million questions -

How far could you go for them,

Had they robbed your heart, 

With their surreal charm! 

The memory clock has stopped ticking.

The voice that ushered in happiness, 

The prayers that heralded daylight,

The lessons on haves and have-nots, 

The tales that rendered goosebumps

The smile that mirrors you, 

And infectious, too

The tears that you sealed deftly from us all.

The art of dissent, 

Where silence hurt more than the words.

The unnumbered feelings

That surround, and follow me all the time.

Tell me, Bapa, 

Do you feel the same,

Do the memories ring in a smile,

Do your eyes well up there, with memories

The way they do here! 

© Sashikant Mohanty

How Could You Leave Me Alone?

You felt my pain,
When I stumbled, and fell,
You laid a road, so I don't trip again.
Where's your concern today?
Did you think even for a moment,
What'd happen to me
When you chased your passion -
Sped off to the lure of the fields,
To the smell of our farms,
To the call of your soul, your Ma,
Without me.

You felt the pain I went through,
As I fell to the ground,
As your clutch let go of mine for a moment.
It's been a while,
A long endless moment,
How can you not feel my pain now,
Devoid of the firm grip of your strong hands?

How can you let go of me?
How could you do this to me,
When I needed you the most,
When I need you more than ever,
When I begged the heavens?
How could you leave me alone,
When I promised to make peace with your unworded rebukes!



© Sashikant Mohanty

Today's Different

Today was different
I didn't have to call you on my way to the airport,
I was deprived of your silent wish,
It's different,
'Cause I don't have to call to speak to you,
You're around, always around
With me, everywhere I go,
To make up for the visits I craved for,
Which you didn't!

Today is different.
Who do the kids run up to
Where do they get the grand freedom
To fiddle with your phone,
Who'll feed them the crispy peanuts,
That was an excuse to snuggle with you,
Who will relish plucking them fresh guavas,
Who will tell them the countless stories,
From the chest of the journeys you lived,
The tonga ride of Guwahati,
The swimming with the relief bags,
Across the swelling rivers of Sirlo,
The tricks and puzzles with numbers
The quiz of grandparents' names, and their stories
Who will giggle and laugh, who will crave for them
The way you would, Bapa!

Today's different.
The table is orphaned, the bed feels cold,
The phone has stopped ringing,
But you're all over,
With the beaming smile,
Brimming with love, and blessings,
Today's different, without you around
Our eyes turn moist at times,
Maybe a bit too often,
Yet force a smile we owe you back!

© Sashikant Mohanty

Come Back, Bapa

You're the earliest to wake up,
Everyday,
Untiring, unrelenting of the habit,
You've been asleep for long,
Wake up Bapa,
Wake up!

The flowers are eagerly waiting for your plucking,
The plants to be watered,
Your manuscripts are rudderless,
The pages of your books,
Come into life, flipping without the gusts
They're missing your smell, your touch Bapa
Wake up!

Bou misses your calls,
She's waiting for your return,
For the habit of pampering you with horlicks,
Tending to your headaches,
The wordless gestures that she figured out
Each chord, every single nudge,
The sight that reminds,
Marriages are meant for old age, Bapa.
Wake up!

When the kids pose tough questions,
Who do I turn to, Bapa?
Who do I call when I have a heavy heart,
Where do I go to, to share those little nothings,
That only you understand,
To whose embrace do I come home, Bapa?
Wake up!

I envy the calm and the smile
On you,
The way you have lived and led through
Trying moments,
With a stoic silence,
Today there's a smile, a quiet, an unshaken calm,
But I can't stand it, Bapa
What do I tell Bou today, when she inquires
About your health?
For her sake, one more time,
Come back, Bapa!



© Sashikant Mohanty 

Father's Day!

As you snuggled into my arms,
Under the moonlit sky,
As you rattled out the questions
"Papa, when do I have a mustache like you?
When will I grow big?"
And a dozen on tow,
A hundred frames rolled across my canvas
All too familiar,
I gazed at my alter ego - the little me,
I smiled, yet had blurred eyes!

Doesn't feel like a distant past,
When I'd sit up unto late evenings,
To listen to the stories,
Pressing my father's head, or legs,
Or, when I tried the push-ups, the very first time,
Ebb and flow, like a shadow,
Or, the day when I took the razor down my face,
Copying him to the point, that it left a cut!

I still try to catch up with him,
The walk, the talk,
The pace, passion, and patience,
"It's just a bend, not the end!"
Be there every single moment,
Be there, at every turn, Bapa
At every crossroad
My Hero, my North Star.

Getting off the school bus,
When the first words you utter were
"Is Papa back?"
My chest burst with pride, like never
The happiness of being a father,
The joys of unconditional love,
And of letting you get on my shoulder,
So I could see the world
Through your eyes.

As a playful gust of wind
Swept several pages,
A hand-written card blew away
From its mooring,
Only to be stuck to my chest
Tattered, but the words still jutting out
Loud as ever,
With a Bapa like you,
Every day is Father's day!




© Sashikant Mohanty

What's Winning, With None To Share

You rocked the streets,
Set the stages ablaze,
You forged ahead,
And shattered all the records,
Past and present,
Leaving all in awe, man and God alike.
But what's winning, with none to share
Tell me, Oh Lord,
How winning feels,
When even your own smile deserts you!

The crowds swelled,
And drowned your voice as they yelled,
They put you on the pedestal by the father,
The mood was insane,
And you grew few inches taller, bigger than life,
But what's outgrowing posters, and statues
With none to share,
When your heart choked for hugs from your own,
And you had none!

The crowds aped you,
The fire, the zeal, the cliched mantras,
And the words that pierced a thousand hearts,
And a million roars, that decimated the foes,
But, what's being worshipped,
With none to share,
When you go too far,
Too far, even for your own inner voice!

Which path did you choose,
Ye Lord, Ye savior of this world?
What did you prove -
What's winning, with none to share? 


© Śashikant Mohanty

There's Something About Cuttack

Today, it was his turn,
To tempt me for the Spring delight
The terrace still felt warm,
Was that for the tiny feet to feel welcome?
It was tough to tell
If it was the waning of April sun,
Or, was it the squalls before Spring storm.
There's something about the sunsets, 
That makes me go weak in my knees,
As they would, then!

We raced up,
Him to his terrace of excitement,
Me, to my terrace of memories.
The stars and rockets played hide-and-seek
Across the caravan of clouds,
As I fielded a hundred questions,
Reliving every single question,
Of every single night.
Was it the same star, then? 
And, the cloud?
They were endless skies, then
Of grey and black,
They are still the same,
A sketch of timeless beauty,
Only the head that rested on the shoulders
Has changed tonight!
There's something about my terrace
And the stars, 
That draws me to them, 
As they would, then!

Your hands feel the same warm,
Warm in spite of the chill breeze,
Your grip more assuring,
Like they would then,
The wrinkles faded away
As a naughty smile lit up the shy face,
As the eyes met mine,
Across a bunch of golden strands,
There's something about Cuttack
That makes me miss you, so much 
As they would, then!


© Sashikant Mohanty

Longing For Letters

When the sun blazed the skies,
And scorched everything dry
When a whiff of breeze heaved a sigh,
An ounce of surahi's water
Brought back life,
And memories to life,
My thoughts raced back to the letters,
So dear, yet so far,
The wait,
The frustration,
The patience,
The prayers,
The pain,
The missing,
And yes, an ounce of joy.

When the mynas broke the silence
Of my heart,
Four for letters! - I cried in joy,
Like I used to then,
As if they have the powers to grant wishes.
We've forgotten it all,
The skill to try,
Lend words to feelings,
The stubborn habit of remembering
The smiles, the faces of fond ones
Before sleep laced the tired eyes.

When the death of the night
Was rattled by the creaking of the old fan,
When I'd sit up,
Up from a broken dream,
The pen would do the magic, unguided,
And beat a heart for you
And roll sketchy thoughts and all
Unto borderless sheets,
What a truly beautiful world, that was,
Where,
Missing was such a lovely feeling
And - being missed - even merrier!

When every day was about a new letter,
Or a bunch, maybe
When each letter was packed
With caring thoughts and a share of glee,
Of concern and of sweet sundry,
When you'd pen a hundred thoughts
Into an inland letter,
Or seal the unworded feelings
Gently into eager envelopes,
And glue them with lips,
Did you crave,
The way I would,
Did you tear up reading them,
The way they made me cry?

The habit never gave up on us,
Penning fleeting thoughts,
Or reading those unspoiled feelings,
Expressed weeks back,
That seemed like
Going on a journey back in time,
To feel, how it felt then,
Smile, pain, sigh, and whispers.
How lovely those times,
When letters were the feelings,
To live for,
And happiness was
What you don't get to experience today!



©  Sashikant Mohanty

Tea Was Just An Excuse

come over!

from the other end of the call

were golden words.

they spun the magic, 

let thoughts go wild, as if you said

why didn't you make it earlier?

tea was just an excuse,

to slip out,
and be with you!

the wait seemed forever, and tense,

as you spent the extra time
in the kitchen,

to make the brew better,

a thousand thoughts crisscrossed my mind.

didn't you realize

tea was just an excuse,

to spend that extra moment,
just with you!

as we sipped the warmth,

your eyes crossed mine over a side glance,

as if to ask how it felt,

and mine returned a nod with a wink,

i wondered if you heard the unsaid words,
as our eyes took over,

tea was just an excuse,

to slip out to the balcony,
and, be with you!

as the thunder roared,

and a chill wind brewed up a storm,

a gentle tap on my shoulder,

hinted how about we stay out there, longer,

feel the dust, and the smell of moist air,

it was hard to figure out

if the heavens craved for these feelings

or, the storm had a message for us,

tea was just an excuse,

to get soaked in the feelings,
with you!

© sashikant mohanty

You Were Right

You were right.
Even if you knew, I was.
Because your smile is too dear,
For me to live without.

Your words did hurt,
Left my world shattered,
They pierced through the layers,
And left my heart crumbled,
To a million pieces,
It felt as if life was all but done,
But you were right,
For your happiness is precious
To trade for,
Even for a moment!

You didn't turn around
To see how I felt,
As the petals fell to the ground,
Behind you,
Gravity-defying,
As though even they didn't want to,
But you were right,
It doesn't matter how I felt.
I chose to be wrong,
So you are right,
For, your smile is priceless -
To part with,
No matter what!


© Sashikant Mohanty

The Incomplete Story

She stood by him,
With calm and grace,
And eyes fixed on his face,
Maybe keen to ask a hundred questions,
Many that she couldn't for a long time,
But her lips were sealed, her feet frozen
Just like him.
Her frame shaken, yet not broken,
She ran her fingers over his head
Feeling the sindoor on his forehead
That she had trusted to protect him,
That was still intact,
As fresh as a couple  of days back,
So what if his olive uniform
Was smeared in the same colors,
He still had the smile on,
Infectious yet illusive,
As she ran her fingers over them,
"He is my husband, my strength!"
A calm unshaken voice emerged
She will never make it to the words
"He was!"

The boy hadn't changed from his uniform,
His school bag all but weightless,
He wasn't running around the house
Looking for his bat and ball,
He wasn't clawing at Mama's dupatta
To bargain for a game on the phone,
His lips had dried up,
As a thousand thoughts dribbled in his little head
And the throbbing pain meant little before the question
Why do you doze off in between
Before you complete the story?

She sat with her head tucked between hands,
Resigned to fate,
And trying to find support in her frail legs,
She always beamed a smile when he's homebound
But not today,
As memories of her brat,
Playing pranks on her, tiring her out
Kept crisscrossing before her,
She set her gaze on his closed eyes,
Hoping they'd move, again
Talking to herself,
Tell me, my lad, this is one more prank!




© Sashikant Mohanty

Unwrit Lines

As the evening crept in stealthily,
And the shadows faded away
On the burnt amber bedsheets
To disappear finally from sight,
The breeze turned spirited,
Flirting with the curtains,
Seemed like they liked the dark,
Maybe, I did too.
Were they in love as well! 

As the evening wore on,
An unusual warmth hugged me,
Was it not eerie,
I still wonder if it was the spring breeze,
Or, was it the embrace of the dreams
That never quite made it!

I leaned against the window,
As the sky winked a smile,
And the shy curtains wrapped me up in a hug
Was I missing something,
Or, someone,
As a rogue breeze just blew in the scent
Of
The unsent letters,
The unpenned thoughts,
The unwrit lines,
The unspoiled beauty,
The unkempt locks,
The unspoken words,
The unkept promises,
The unshed tears,
And, the unseen smiles!




 © Sashikant Mohanty

Moments

As I walked past the aisles
And scanned through the sundries
To find the best I could find for you,
To make up for the days, away
To make up for the dreams we missed,
And the stories I couldn't tell you to bed,
As I battled out weary feelings,
One broken thought got stuck, somewhere
Maybe even slowed me down
As the blurred frame cleared itself up -
Every time you'd hear I'd be away
The first, often the only question you had was
When do you get back? 


When I sit back alone
Gazed into the grey evening skies,
Musing over life's journeys
Trying to roll back, and replay random frames
From an oft-played memory roll
Go back to the occasions
When we'd share a giggle, a grin, a hearty laugh
Or, maybe a rare quiet smile
It wasn't about the nameless toys, that lay around
Maybe nothing mattered, even if there were,
It was all about those moments,
The priceless moments! 


As the skies cleared up
And the sun fired up the sky into a crimson yellow,
As my breath straightened out, so my thoughts
The writing stood out of the haze
The best gifts
Aren't the ones lying in the racks,
Even if I hopped a few borders over
They aren't what heaps of notes could buy
They lie within,
Moments, 
The precious,
The priceless moments! 




© Sashikant Mohanty

My Mother, My God

because your love doesn't look for a reason, 
because every moment was about giving, 
because i became a part of your life,
before even i came into this world, 
because your thoughts
are always about our happiness
before yours,
because, when tears kept you warm, 
your prayers brought on
the layers of warmth, 
because you deprived yourself of milk
so we could have the cream,
you are special, bou 
every way! 

you'd sit up all night sponging,
when the fever refused to recede,
whispering silent prayers 
even after a long tiring day.
when you sit by bapa,
and feel his pains, defying your own, 
your care is so deep,
so flawless, so divine,
denying yourself even a bit of sleep
often to the point, 
that it hurts,
that it makes even god envy you,
every day! 

as i flip through my memory album 
scanning the lip-smacking dishes, 
you'd prepare with unmatched perfection,
and garnish with love, 
i could even smell the dishes,
from memories
from several winters back.
as a familiar breeze
slapped the terrace door,
it reminded of the days
when you'd keep waiting, 
pacing up and back on the terrace,
if we hadn't got home
after it was dark. 
as the frames keep streaming, 
my lips curled up into a smile, 
and that moment, 
a stream of warmth
gently traced my cheeks, 
i wasn't sure who to thank -
god, for blessing us with you,
or, you for giving a face to god,
every day! 



© sashikant mohanty

Fall's Colours

Amid the long, intent gazes, 

At the eternal skies,
The pregnant columns of cloud,

The crimson and the purple shades

That defined the edges of the horizons,

I can't escape the rambling thoughts -

Which brush did you use, my Creator

How gorgeous your canvas,

Who was it that inspired you?

Within and about, as I seek myself, 

Among the cloudless skies, 

Or, when I go on long walks on deserted river banks, 

And am drawn to the quiet of tired dusk, 

The serenity only to be breached,  

By the flight of a lone eagle,

The folk song of the boatman,

As the sun descended into the river bed, 

Or,  when I take a stroll by the velvety hill roads,

A question continues to echo in my ears -

Were you so obsessed with fall's colours

That you didn't spare even the roads below?

© Sashikant Mohanty

Stay Honest Anyway

The path of honesty is bound to hurt,
Stay honest anyway.

It'd be scorned, scoffed, and spurned at,
Stay honest anyway.

The choices may break the back, will even earn blows,
Stay honest anyway.

That blood must be steel, can't there be more?
Stay honest anyway.

It'd be painful, but the end is bound to be good,
Be brutally honest anyway!


© Sashikant Mohanty 

When Were You Close?

Amid the quiet of the night,

The gusts of chill breeze, 

And the medley of soft ghazals,

I was lost in the bit of moon,

That made it to my room,

Maybe I loved losing myself in her.

If this is not bliss, then what is!

They surfed across the silver plaque, 

The  gentle waves, and the huge tides

Of thoughts, dreams, and castles

That drew me to a distant world

Where I lay still, 

Let the moon soak in, again

It was warm, though a different shade

But the velvet below rent it dreamy, 

A soft note of music pierced through the quiet

It wasn't quite the beat of your heart, this time

But the burble of the stream over the stones

Wasn't too far from it.

They left a moistness in my eyes

They surfed across the silver plaque 

But I struggled to reach beyond the mist,

Maybe it was because of the missing.

A sudden gust of wind flapped the curtain

Left my eyes wide open, again
I gazed back at the moon, wondering

When were you close

That the distance would tear me apart!

© Sashikant Mohanty