Saturday, April 2, 2011

Season now of Broken Hearts

Along the night of sullen streets
Glistening still with twilight rain
Float and fall a thousand leaves,
Braiding pain in hundred wreaths –
Season now of broken hearts.

Wrapped around the seeping earth
Flap the scented winds of rain
And blow my way with breezy grace
Pictures of those rippling days
Sparkling still in wistful gaze.

Strange the ways of heart it seems –
Who knows how in seasons long,
In ways we never learnt in full,
The tides, they came and merging on
Surged together for some shore
Where they may in bridal song
For themselves some castles build.

I in golden muslin light
Stranded now in distant lands
Swarming with some unknown tongue,
Search for those in silent gaze
In those smiling eyes of yours
Which keep seeking dream-lit men,
Straddling who-knows-what green lane!

My verbs, they lack the Protean arts:
Season now of broken hearts…


Robert said...

Words fail me.It was a magical read.Wonderful.Intense,painful,almost a song.The best of this year.Beautiful.Had I been a Prince (or,maybe a princess for that matter),I could have crowned you with the laurel.I cant express the effect it had on me.A dream,an yearning,pain,isolation,a strong plea to reach out and connect,to surrender; and she,a nymph ... wow!Splendid.Kudos to you.
One little thing though,I did not understand one line: Straddling who-knows-what green lane. What is it supposed to mean?Forgive my incompetency but will you please explain?

Abin Chakraborty said...

The 'dream-lit men', because 'dream-lit' are evergreen - unlike us poor mortals.
Thanks again...

Robert said...


Abin Chakraborty said...


Robert said...

Banish Fear. Banish Pain. Banish the Excuses. Blood Sweat and Blue. WOOOOHOOOO. This is the stuff dreams are made of. An entire nation strung together. One noise, one voice, one action. SCREAM SREECH ROCK DANCE HUG JIGGLE JUMP JUMP JUMP...

Abin Chakraborty said...

wonderful feeling.if there is nationalism in India, its there on the cricket field.just amazing. someday we'll tell our successors, we lived in times of sachin and yuvi, zak and mahi.

Robert said...

O yes,yes,yes! The great heroes and also Gautam Gambhir--my salutes to him for sheer nerves and absolute patience that day,poor soul got out at 97.But I shall proudly speak of the last sixer of Dhoni and the last catch of Sachin in the Indo-Pak semis,to my kids.I actually sprained my ankle when Dhoni hit that six,you see?(jumped) But the Lankan captain gained my respect with his words,as also Afridi had done.Perfect gentlemen!Dhoni was the perfect captain all along.Led right from the front.
And well,as an afterthought,your nymph could actually think of dream-lit men on blue lanes now!We did away with the 'evergreens':p :)

Abin Chakraborty said...

We can go on and on and on...The magnitude of the event is beyond any torrent of words we can come up with. The more we say the less it seems. I have watched Sachin's interviews in almost five different channels today.cant get enough of the euphoria!

Robert said...

Yeah,ur right.Sorry

Robert said...

Its the National Poetry Month of 2011.Hope you celebrate it well by reading and writing the most wonderful form of literature with some passion.May your Poesy shine and live long!

Sui Generis said...

Wonderful it is!!
No matter whatever I say would be an understatement...bravo!

Amrita Dhar said...

Under the trees light
has dropped from the top of the sky,
like a green
latticework of branches,
on every leaf,
drifting down like clean
white sand.

A cicada sends
its sawing song
high into the empty air.

The world is
a glass overflowing
with water.

Ode to Enchanted Light, Neruda