Lost Soul

i treated you the way i did
because of who i am,
and not because or in spite of
what you had done to me

you treated me the way you did,
because of who you are,
and not because or in spite of
how i had dealt with you

i loved you
because in you
i saw a beautiful soul
and in the beautiful soul,
i chose to see my god

you unloved,

unsaw and unthawed,

despite seeing a beautiful soul

and in the beauty of that selfless soul, 

you remembered the god, 

you'd seen before

how, still, could you become a lost soul?

© sashikant mohanty

True Love Is A Garden

true love is a garden,

but love, a bouquet,

one is endless, eternal,

one is where you see all the colors,

the entire range -

from the brightest to the darkest, 

one is where you're not scared

to walk through the puddle,

where you're willing to trade

the beauty for the scars of the thorns,

one where there is a freshness

where you deal with the blooming 

and the wilting,

one which you look back,

even if it's barren recalling the beauty,

one is pristine, 

and gets etched in memory

and stays with you,

even in its absence,

and is missed and longed for,

and long after,

the other is just coloured 

true love is a lifetime,

while love, only a season,

one is all-weather, beyond the bends

of time and space,

one sheds and regrows,

one has the fall and the spring,

and where even the summers

and the winters ring,

one ebbs and flows, but the soul lives on,

one where life breathes on,

one embraces the cuts and the bruises, 

the scars and the sufferings

with a smile

and endures the pains, like the nile,

and cherishes only the smile,

one is timeless and spaceless,

the other, only a season,

maybe, looks for a reason

true love lives in the other's pains,

but love feels theirs who she calls her own,

and rolls tears when the pain is only her own,

one lives the other's life,

tears up upon the other's storm,

stays up so the other can sleep,

puts on the other, and the other's everything,

ahead of own,

puts up with the other's everything,

one lives and thrives

even in the distance, 

and is yet always around,

before whom even destiny takes a retreat,

one never moves on 

not even when faced with 

the cruel blows of luck, time or life,

one longs for the other's smiles,

even when robbed of their own,

the other, only a blindfold

true love is about giving,

love is about asking,

one is always forgiving,

believing and trusting,

owning up the other's world,

always owning up before when due,

one is being there for the other,

not looking to be asked for,

one is feeling the unlettered thoughts,

listening to the unuttered fears,

and crying at even the unborn tears,

one is about the usaid words,

unconditional,

unwavering and unselfish, 

one is lost in the other,

the other lost only in self

my love is a flower,

but your love, only a perfume,

one is real,

takes blood and sweat

to come to life,

one flows freely,

and is penned by god,

is a god, a messiah and a messenger,

one is a blessing

and is answered only by true prayers,

one is born, lives, and thrives 

in the soul,

one is eternity,

shapeless, timeless, boundaryless,

beyond the horizons of words,

of and the limits of the worlds,

is felt by willing souls,

one is priceless,

the other must only be paid for

one spreads fragrance in the other's world,

the other wears off only with time

©​ sashikant mohanty

A Nice Adieu

amid 

the words and the silences,

the pain and the soothes,

the love and without,

the bruises and the healings,

the beliefs and what they were meant to be,

i sometimes rear a wish,

of a nice adieu,

a painless parting,

when, even if there is no love,

may hate not take place

of the vacuum

amid

the meetings and the partings,

the seekings and the findings,

the longings and the reunitings,

the misunderstandings
and the understandings,

i sometimes indulge a deep wish
of a good adieu,
where there are no hard feelings,
no grumble, no pains,

it's fine if you moved on,

if that makes you happy,

and your heart content,

but even if there is no love,

may hate not take place

of the vacuum

amid

the memories and the now,

the promise of our living dreams 
and the nightmares of a living hell,
the choices between hope and giving up,

between building the castles with matchboxes,

and destiny bringing them down and 
me trying all over again,

amid the
here-now-and-away-the-next,

if love were never to toss back,
forced as i may be,
i sometimes fancied 
an unannounced adieu,
(can someone fancy death!)

after which the calls stop,

the wait stops, the clock stops,
the music fades
and the last line tapers off, 
as the last breath weans off,
and i gift you what you truly need, 

but even when everything comes to a standstill,
and when, even if there is no love,

may hate not take place

of the vacuum

amid

the obscure words

and the clarity in the silences,

the lips that keep quiet,

and the eyes and the silence
that more than make up for words,

i sometimes rear a dear wish,

for a pleasant adieu,

where no urges outlive 

the numbness,
where no pull follows the push,
and i build courage,

where no life follows death,
to sketch the last memory in our story,

as i live the rest of my life,

or i leave, to take the rest of my life,

and when, even if there is no love,
may hate not take place
of the vacuum

© sashikant mohanty 

Tsunami

the tsunami that rocked the shores

of the andamans afar,

once upon a distant past,

and the message that struck lightning,

of your dear one missing,

had left me numbed,

as your fears ran deep,

and your tears rolled,

and you trusted me to your pain;

i shivered and shook,

anxious, restless and helpless,

as i lived your life,

and of those of your world,

breathed your short nervous breaths,

of the untraced,

as the several lives were shaken,

and the fears of uprooting

of families and the faith in god

engulfed me in flames,

and my prayers followed,

so did the tears,

that nobody noticed,

separated by a sea of distance,

unseen and unknown 

the tsunami that rocked the shores

of your world,

in not so distant past,

and you trusted me to your pain;

broke out a cold sweat on my brows, 

and a seething pain spread in me,

as i cried in pain,

and i lived your life,

and of the several lives

the ones you call your world,

as i hid myself in quiet corners, 

for days and weeks,

as i clasped my hands tight,

in prayers,

and the tears rose in my throat,

a thousand miles away,

unseen and unknown

the tsunami that rocked your shores,

several-upon-a-time,

when you'd trusted me to your pain,

and leaned on my shoulders,

dance before my eyes, still,

they play hide-and-seek before my eyes,

at the upwelling and downwelling

between my heart and my eyes,

as my tears wreak a tsunami,

as i live and relive,

the fears that tore me apart,

shattered my heart,

and leave the old bruises open,

and blood oozed from the new,

and the words -
spoken and held back,

fueled the flames
that charred my soul,

and i clasped my hands,

tight, in prayers,

my lips whispered a prayer,
for your healing,

and a quiet unrendered wish

surged violently in me

for you to be my rock,

live my life, 

and breathe my breaths,

away and afar,

and a deep longing,

that refuses to be washed away, 

unseen and unknown 

© sashikant mohanty