Chittaranjan Dash, Delhi, 7 July 2024
Is loneliness, a mask or a flesh on chair?
Is it a curl of smoke whirling to oblivion?
Is it an essential state of mind lurking always?
Is it an inheritance of dark from the womb?
Should we accept it and stare at nothingness of things?
Should we do nothing about it and let it be?
Should we buy a designer dress to clothe it?
Should we let it be free like a bird of the sky?
Look at the way, leaves drop in autumn –
Embracing gregariousness in death too:
When wind blows o’er heads, they sway in unanimity-
There can be a togetherness of loneliness:
Like a series of pigeons or crows for that matter
On a live wire of dark existence – wholly alone,
Yet masquerading as a family of happiness-
Each overweighed with a tangible individuality.
