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