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Aletheia

 AYANA BHATTACHARYA

You see,
one can never really
unsee darkness,
or unlearn emotions
that living has deemed
none too special,
rather inane, smelling of
peeling paintwork
and weekday sheets.

The cars honk you crazy
and the stars stare you down,
and your bubbles burst
like overripe grapes.
Yet- you crawl, you walk,
you stroll; and even
once or twice, quite unmindful
of the unseeing eyes,
you twirl a lock or sway a limb.


And just when
you grip the rhythm
by its hair, you fear
your footfalls grow faint.
Or perhaps,
along the way,
those bitter smiles
stumble and crack,
and gossamer dreams
fray unawares,
as the finitude
of each agonizing instant
shrinks and warps.


But then,
where do I begin?
And when do I know
that the weight feels heavy?
that the violence of beauty
is a mere ripple,
an irregular fold,
on the surface of calm indifference?


Yet, all the while,
my worn forgetful eyes
usher me furtively
into a mock world
that rests,rests
ever so blissfully
on its head;
where joy untroubled
sits snuggled between
words and intentions,
silences and greedy banter.


2 comments

  • Beautiful! 🦋

    Rai
  • Awesome!!!!

    Shramana Brahma

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