There's A Message

there's a message,
in your smile,
even more telling
in your tears,
it cries out loud from the void
in your portraits,
it's sketched  
in your walk,
brutal,
when you talk the talk,
gentle,
when you walk my walk,
and heady,
when you just stop
to steal a look.


there's a message
in your silence
warm and fervent,
as your touch.
lights up in a flash
as your eyes meet mine,
it's etched
in your unfastened tresses,
comes alive
in every untouched canvas,
it's scribbled
all over my skies, my eyes
as sleepless I lie,
there's a message
in the emptiness,
even if it's long
since i received one!


© sashikant mohanty

The Promised Land

the state was locked

but the crowds swelled

pregnant women,

sunburnt men

skinny kids 

on father's shoulders, secure, 

torn bags and gaping bottles 

that hung on to their backs, 

they were broke, but did not break.

they marched on

for their homes

that they had left long back

with hopes of 

the promised land.

with deep wrinkles 

etched into their faces,

even the last drop of sweat 

had given in to fate,

with woody faces, 

and brows smeared with dust,

and sunken eyes,

they dragged their feet,

and fought their minds,

blisters, sore backs and forced a smile,

few fighters, many brittle 

some that rested on rail tracks,

to never wake up

from another dream of

the promised land.

the big men and their folks,

in swanky attire, sharp and smart

stepped out into the terraces

of their ivory towers,

they also swelled, 

and cheered on,

for the warriors, 

blew conch shells,

waved flashlights,

clicked selfies,

and giggles grew,

as deals were inked,

and the glasses clinked.

their bags also swelled,

and they marched on and on

and the bards sang "hail the prince",

for ringing in 

the promised land!

the chopper whirred,

hovered above the sea of men,

they pinched,

thought the Gods were moved,

and gazed into the dust soaked sky,

as scorched fields would 

at sailing clouds.

their hearts pounded faster.

to match its roar,

it commenced the shower,

and they ran for them, 

only to find flowers, 

not even an ounce of grain.

it swerved, tore into the skies again

hope cheated, left them in pain

how it robbed the children's smiles, again!

the shadows got longer,

the steps heavier,

as one dream set, 

another rose,

and, weaved hopes again of 

the promised land!

© sashikant mohanty

There's Something To Be Grateful For

there's something about the lockdown

to be happy about,

share a meal with loved ones,

take a sip of piping hot tea,

listen to the birds' songs in the balcony,

soak in the first drops of rain,

bask in memories of the smell

of rain kissing the parched fields,

enjoy the rainbow, 

before it faded in moments,

have a hearty laugh over 

how silly you behaved as a kid,

share pictures of lip-smacking dishes 

on whatsapp

there's something to be grateful for!

there's something about the lockdown

to be glad about,

the caravan of cars that inspire dreams,

the stories that the kids narrate,

mr. bean, peppa pig, 

krishna and chota bheem

the relentless chatter, 

until they blabber into sleep -

makes me wonder sometimes 

if they too were family.

there's a twinkle in their eyes,

a spring in their steps

as they lead me out 

to watch the full moon in glory,

and when they offered the broken binocular 

they made me wonder 

how they didn't miss the beauty of the moon,

despite the clutter,

there's something in them that inspires me,

and lights up hope once more, 

when heavens seem to fall apart.

there's something there to be grateful for!

there's something to cheer about -

having food on the table, 

and the choice of homemade desserts, 

so what if the stepping out has stopped,

sipping black coffee on my deck,

so what if I don't get the fresh brew 

of starbucks, or coffee day.

i teared up watching the families,

bracing for their fate,

walking for days,

smeared with smoke and dust

dried lips, empty stomach, sleepless nights

unsure where they'd get the next bread.

now, will you tell me

isn't there a lot to be grateful for?

© sashikant mohanty

Until We Meet Again

they lit up our eyes, then

as we'd rush for a game of cricket,

in your courtyard,

where winning or losing didn't matter.

the memories light up still,

one by one,

the huddling up 

over paper rockets,

the fear and the fun

of listening to the rains, 

hammer the asbestos roof,

pelting stones at the mangoes,

and gathering the trophies,

the excitement over the kites

and cakes,

where Christmas was not fun

without sharing a bite!

the flash in your eyes

didn't change with time,

they twinkled as would do stars proud, 

they sparkled like a child's,

were deep, as deep can be,

as you pulled out the pictures 

of your angels 

from your wallet.

how times change in a moment,

now the pictures 

would be yours,

and the wallet theirs,

the memories yours,

and the tears, theirs!

as you leave,

your time well spent, 

you leave us with memories

the bond, the love and the hugs,

the frames of a face 

laced with that smile,

etched so deep

to fade with time.

the smile that hid the pain,

the endless banter,

the time that we can't get over,

keep smiling, 

and, keep watch on us,

until we meet again,

the other side!

© sashikant mohanty