By Angana Patgiri
What did God aspire when He breathed life into me?
What great enormity might have been evoked in
creation when I opened my eyes?
Merely blinking;
Barely grasping life,
Barely realizing that the world is not less colourful.
Eyes, my eyes - those paradoxical existences;
That remained the ignition of agonies more, mirth less
Loved less, yet recalled timelessly the images
Always crafting a riddle,
An encapsulated memoir of mankind's bleak
innocence.
Eyes gazed into another's,
They smiled, grieved;
Then in a sister's embrace,
In a game played in the courtyard,
In the fragrance of the wet earth after rain,
In grandma's mango pickles -
Passed all monochromatic episodes of life.
Maybe this heart endures, beats
Through these inglorious love and hatred of men.