Living in poetic agog

Living in poetic agog is exhausting sometimes. It is mostly good exhausting but exhausting nevertheless.

Lately, I have noticed that just before I go to sleep something poetic, or at any rate something approaching poetic, pops up in my mind. Those who write anything, particularly poetry, would know that an idea conceived has to be an idea birthed.

Last night before going to sleep the first line of this short poem formed in my mind. The rest of the verses followed without much effort. Notwithstanding that these are merely four verses, I felt drained after about a minute of putting them down on the blank side of what turned out to be a creditor’s final notice. To complete the process of any creation I put it before an audience, in this case my unsuspecting Facebook friends. They are all generous to a fault and to the extent they can be in the face of my frequent updates.

Every time I post an update that is either my new digital artwork or a piece of writing I feel both greedy and needy, as if I am doing it for the sole purpose of applause or, at least, response. That has never really stopped me.

मेरा फटा है गरेबान
उसे रफ्फु कर भगवान

चादर पूरी दे न दे
नींद तो पूरी दे तू कान

धुंद में लिपटी धरा
और मंजिल हुई बेनिशान

अब तो जुगनुओं की रौशनी में
रुक रुक कर चले इंसान

मयंक छाया

There is a tear in my existence

Would you please darn it, god?

The quilt may fall short

Let my sleep not

Cloaked in mist, this earth

The destination is opalescent

It is in the random light of fireflies

Humans must now walk haltingly

Mayank Chhaya


About chutiumsulfate

South Asians can infer from my name what I am. View all posts by chutiumsulfate

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