Chittaranjan Dash, Delhi, 27 October 2024
Cold hands of Octopus close in –
Yet my soul feels warm and alive.
A blind room- fathomless: abyss-
“Too much of light can blind you”
My mother used to say, when we
Stayed inside during solar eclipse.
I envy the winging birds that fly,
Can I crawl on all fours like a crab,
To be washed golden in moonlight,
Then vanish in blue womb of sea,
Not even a lonesome howling wolf,
I don’t hold time in my burning eyes,
Memory-impromptu shadow dance,
Flickers both in mind and margins-
Of logic’s irrationality in language,
We don’t understand each other-
What remains common between us,
A railway platform misted in pathos,
Where we could only feel a vacuum,
Of a Big Bang of distance in grey,
A tangible oblivion eating us alive.
