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Wednesday, 23 January 2019

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


Saturday, 19 January 2019

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

Thursday, 10 January 2019

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 

Saturday, 5 January 2019

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