Nostalgia

An engineer, a scientist, I am not, Never delved into coding, analytics or bot. Physics and mathematics you see, Have forever disappointed me. A doctor, I am neither, In this pandemic, my service ain't a necessity either. Sometimes I try writing. But who would indulge in brain racking? When the world has lucrative alternatives to fend, And my words don't even make your hair stand on ends? A lawyer, a painter, A civil servant, a banker, The list goes on and on, Yet a perfect title that fits me, Hasn't been born. So to label what I actually do, Has given me a hard time too. You see the world would always attempt  To put you in a box,  A world that in itself is a paradox.  We are all taught to aim high, For the infinitely vast sky.  Who cares if we lose our tranquillity As days roll by? In a need to constantly achieve something  To receive a validation, Remember there is no real end to this aspiration. As the capitalistic society Sets to condition our psyche, ...

As cold creeps in through your window, With a roaring downpour; I just wanted you to know, I love you a little more. Again when the bright sunshine, Seeps in through your veins, My heart skips a beat with your laughter, On all such days. I have watched you putting in your best, While sometimes merely battling to survive, As circumstances fast-forward, rewind, slow and pause, The controls of your life. You have always been ashamed of your blemishes, Apologetic for being too wild. You have always been ashamed of not confining, Within the walls built by the world, my child. Today, even as you stand tall, all by yourself, Bracing up to soar; Dear 'Self', remember, through thick and thin, I have always loved you, a little more.

You see I have dwelt in the same story, Over and again, I know how it all begins, And how it would end. With a different set of characters, With a different flavour of pain. What you say has been said before, Just from a different mouth, What you do has been done before, Just in a different way throughout. I keep running into you, Over and again, You masked with a new face, In a new lane. And the story shamelessly, Kicks off from the start, With those same sense organs, Playing their part.

Love forever has its own share of nuances, Sometimes it turns its back, sometimes embraces. Sometimes it is the light twinkling from houses in the dark, Sometimes it is the footsteps on a soggy lane leaving a mark. Sometimes it is the fragrance emanating from a freshly printed page, Sometimes it is the bricks of your self-constructed cage. Sometimes it is the chae soothing your throat during cold, Sometimes it the story you nurture untold. Sometimes it is the rain breathing life into the Earth, Sometimes it is that one tinge of pain in an ocean of mirth. Sometimes it the breeze, gently ruffling your hair, Sometimes it is the storm ravaging beyond repair. Sometimes love, is just a fading song, Yet you keep humming along.

I still write you letters, Within me, confined, Rattling with you incessantly, Over and over in my mind. Securing every bit of what remained, Unscathed in my soul, Lest they elude me too, Pretty much like you. You see the new companion I have made, Out of sheer imagination about you in my head, Is my confidant now, For, I am learning to let go of you anyhow. My new mate never tries caging love, With the shackles of time and space, He knows love is fathomless, With its own mysterious ways. Today, while you dwell with your significant other for real, I am better off in my make-believe world with you, Sadly the seed we had sowed together once, Needed to be pulled out when it grew.

We hardly spare you a moment from our virtual space, Basking in the glory of a million "Likes", Fiercely unsettled, until that last grey tick turns blue, While your eager voice once again goes in vain, Eventually fading from view. We are a bunch of millennial, Busy swiping right and left, We love investing in whatever works as of now, "Happily ever after" doesn't quite befit our fairy tales yet. We exploit you as our "Punching bags", Cribbing about every little thing going wrong, From hookups to breakups, from sex to stress, Our generation certainly plays the "Damsel in Distress"! You introduced us to the world around, Yet, ungratefully we flash nonchalance in times of your need, Looking down upon each of your efforts to keep up with our pace, You see, our generation certainly runs, "The Rat Race"!

"Aj sei khorir gondi muchhiya gachhe, kintu gondi tobu ghoche naai " --Rabindranath Tagore, Jibon Smriti 'Ghor o Bahir'. Locked up within the confines of a four- walled cage, The mind was enchained with care; Locked up within the confines of a four-walled cage, The lips were tamed and bare. Imprisoned thoughts and imprisoned dreams, Could never unearth the beauty within; Imprisoned thoughts and imprisoned dreams, Turned love and longing into a sin. Compassion and consolation fumed out the language of curse, Wounded soul left unheeded and un-nursed. But one fortunate day, they unfastened the shackles of her feet, The ecstasy of her ‘self’ knew no bounds; With the wings un-clipped and all set to fly, She was free; free to soar beyond the vastness of the sky. But each time she struggled to make the first move, Her efforts went in vain, But each time she struggled to make the first move, Her shattered hopes mourned with pain. Inhibitions persistently ...