Memories of Smell

you may deny me the pictures,
of the thawing of the ice,
and the merging of your river in my sea,
but can you take away the memories,
we crafted together?

you may stop me from
hearing the music of your voice,
you may deprive me of the soothing chirping
of your silence,
but can you rob me of the memories, 
of our shared souls?

you may prevent me of
seeing your smiles and your joy,
every day,
and hearing the whisper of your sigh of relief,
every so often,
and the murmurs of your heartbeats,
every moment,
but can you ever run away from
the memories of the smell,
of my presence?





© sashikant mohanty

The Universe Conspired

yes, the universe conspired
to help me find you,
and the universe
has not been the same, ever since

yes, the universe conspired,
when in the eeriest of times,
it was moved by unwavering emotions,
the sacrifices and the endurance,
it's not been the same, ever since

yes, the universe conspired,
when in the unlikeliest of situations,
it thawed your ice,
and let the impossible unfold,
it's never been the same, ever since

yes, the universe conspired, 
to guide you to find me again,
to make my universe
complete,
and it's changed for good, ever since

yes, the universe conspired, of course,
to let the paths cross again,
and again,
and our souls merged, to not part again, 
to make you my universe, ever since!




© sashikant mohanty

Truth

truth is like a shadow,
and will always be around you,
either you follow the shadow,
or the chased one is you,
no matter how large the web,
you spin around you,
no matter how much dark
you keep creep into,
or how long you spend in the dark,
light has its way
to make its way to you,
and then your shadow will be
right before you

truth is a mirror,
the one, the only mirror of the soul,
even if you break it,
into a thousand pieces,
each splinter will show the real you,
even if you run away,
you'll run into another,
you just can't stay away from it
for long,
often in spite of all you plan,
the mirror will bounce everything back,
in strange, eerie ways,
oftentimes by people you think your own,
like oftentimes you did to them, that called you own
and swallowed every poison for you,
and stood like a rock
right before you

truth is like your pillow,
the one to go back to every day,
that you need for your head to rest,
and when you go back,
every night,
it plays before you, dances frames
and you'd cry and shriek, in pain,
with nobody else to see,
wishing many things weren't they were
but not have a choice,
as tears roll
as numb eyes stay open for hours,
and the mirror plays out the frames,
how you did to those
who treat you their own,
and at what you gave back in turn,
as the mirror is the closest,
right before you!



© sashikant mohanty

Moving On

you may feel

the path we tread,

our shared memories were a myth,

but what will you do

when the dreams come back every night,

those, that we saw once,
lying, arms locked and breaths in tandem,

weaving our shared dreams 

together?

you may not feel comfortable

to hold my hands, anymore

them wrapping your shoulders,

but can you wish away

your memories

of me rubbing your hands

freezing with the fear of the parting, 

and of delhi's chill?

you may move on,

not concerned
of how my world comes crashing,

like did once, many moons back,,

but could you let go of the memories

once imprinted in the sheets of hope? 

can you move on from

the unnumbered frames,

unerasable, indelible 

etched deep in your soul,

when you couldn't move on from the memories,

despite finding sunshine again?

you can call me a stranger again,

can you call it history,

the way you'd say, i made you feel,

the unsaid words,
the god you said you saw in me,

the messiah and the messenger and all,

when the storms rocked your world

when the tsunamis brought you back

to the ajnabi, 

when all you needed
was a chest to put your heavy head to,

a soul to trust,

and a willing pair of shoulders,
for your numb frame

to lean on?

you may not need me, anymore

but can you forget the smell of memories,

of unconditional love,
ever,

of our banters, in whispers

and the loud silences, 
in between,
of the smiles and the tears,

between our eyes,

when you are alone,

sleeping by yourself,

or seeking warmth

on a different pillow?

© sashikant mohanty