On Her Departure

Full of foliage
the gulmohur is on the verge
to deliver a message of condolence.

The lake of monsoon has begun to swell
to herald the Great Deluge
sparing only me and my melancholy.

Sunny days have gone out of stock
not to be replenished for a millennia.
But life would continue

to exist as a curse forever.
Now that no one knows her whereabouts
there remains this glimmer of hope.

Heaven is a politician’s promise
for a better tomorrow – a myth.
But hell is not.

Dreams and memories
are the only privileges
that remain untouched.

(After writing the poem I was reminded of the famous classic Bollywood number: chalo ek baar phir se ajnabi ban jaye hum dono.)  


21 thoughts on “On Her Departure

  1. Beautiful, Durga ji. You are a wonderful poet too.

    Dreams and memories remain unscathed… Hmmm, do they really? I’m not sure. But I like the poem. It touched me precisely because my dreams and memories didn’t escape unscathed. But that’s how literature works, isn’t it? It questions ourselves and lets us question it too.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Actually what I meant was even at the worst of times/in the most hopeless situation some pleasant memories of past and dreams may provide a little bit of solace or glimmer of hope. Of course as you said there are times when dreams and memories do not remain unscathed.
      Thanks for your kind words and appreciation.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. You thoroughly nailed it, Sir. That bollywood number is a favorite. So much life in every word, a story in every line. My favorite yet
    Heaven is a politician’s promise
    for a better tomorrow – a myth.
    But hell is not.
    ❤ ❤ ❤


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