Nostalgia

The evening casts its pallor of gloom

As clouds of pleasure dance crazily across the sky.

An old shop at the corner of the lane

Chants an emotional yet obsolete tune

While mortals trudge on drearily.

 

I see a reflection on the water

Of an ancient, pock-marked face

Deep in thought, lined with despair.

He lights a cigarette and the hazy smoke rings

Ripple away into the muddy obscurities of time.

A thousand feet shuffle in the darkness

As the last embers of light flicker and die.

 

With uncontrollable rage, the rain begins to fall

The light, now reduced to mere specks

Dazzles like diamonds on an oasis

Beautiful smells tantalize the nostrils

The Earth speaks in eloquent words.

 

Antique houses, sepia-tinted snapshots of by-lanes

Fill my memory with delightful thoughts of infancy.

 

The reservoir of water in Heaven dries up soon.

Countless people step onto the darkened path

The violet sky with the silvery moon

Illuminates the landscape

Shedding its pink tassels

Over the mystical mountain.

 

The fading puddles beckon

Nostalgic dreams in my confused mind.

 

The wind pulls my ears again

I listen to the plaintive tune, morbid as the night

I need a magical poet

Who will scribble lines on the undulating lane

Making dead souls rise again.

 

I stand facing the murky world

And all I think of is you

My auburn coloured Goddess with liquid eyes.

 

My life has come full circle

This is where I end and begin anew

My journey to eternity

After the candle is extinguished

And someone walks over the water

In which my image stands.

 

Shaurya Sircar

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