By Pubali Roy
"The chrysalis breaks apart, tiny eyes open wide,
her lashes flutter in puzzled glances at the enormous world;
the world, adorned with delicate hues, invokes wonder,
in her tiny, feebly fluttering heart.
The northern lights leave emerald trails in her dilating pupils,
streaks of green interlace with the grey hues of her eyes .
Her bewilderment is dwindled by the floral sight,
and her rosy cheeks become an abode to a wide grin!
(But oh, the floral hues being so faded,
can only capture a quarter of her delight.)
She giggles, squeaks of joy fill the air,
a bee flaunts his busy stripes as he flies by.
A cacophony of buzzing and laughter lingers,
intertwining only with the strings of time.
(Will she ever know that the bee has lost his way?
He stumbles only upon achromatic petals,
Buzzing? A cry for help,
for confusion and turmoil together make up his last treasure.)
A fawn frolicking about the barren terrain,
tend to stay clueless about the first ray of dawn,
for the mist is all he can see,
and the flock of clouds is all he can feel.
She bumps into him, a friendship blooms,
hopping about in synchronisation,
a hint of joy gets a grip onto their lips,
and as they dance, they trace patterns on the grass,
which slowly fade, for their tiny, graceful feet, start to levitate."
I let my eyes open, albeit involuntarily,
my trembling eyelids sense your presence.
"No, don't let the hues fade!", I cry and tremble;
my emotions completely crippling me ,
I sink in your embrace,
my senses leaving my side.
"She's going away, far away,
the clouds are engulfing her tiny frame,
let me go, let me go, let me..",
I let the water flow down my dimples,
my cheeks are stained, blood stains my lips,
scratches run along my wrists.
I sense your breath.
"Honey..." , you say, your voice so loud, so harsh,
"You have to let yourself rest a bit, my love.
The tale you weave is not only yours to tell,
'twas a promise of weaving this tale together,
me with you, you with me.
For how long shall we torment our souls?
The guilt eats away our wills to live,
but for how long shall I witness my love
willing to thieve herself of her life, her heart?
Oh dear, my heart is in pieces too,
its fragments stacked with yours,
crumpled up somewhere barren, somewhere not so known,
for we have failed to win against the stream of time.
Can we not live with some voids in our chests?
Our little angel...she is in the clouds , you say?
Her squeaks of joy, I can hear as well,
she must be picking the best apples,
as rosy as her flustered cheeks,
she must be playing charades with the cherubs, with her peers, her friends,
she must be loved, no matter where she is.
If you keep weaving your own tale, my love,
I am afraid all the hues from that world will fade,
and the voids surrounding her, will corner her to an abyss of torment, mischief and grief.
Tell me, how will the clouds then find their way?
She would be lost forever, in a kaleidoscope so grey,
trapped in the stalagmites of eternity,
would she ever let herself smile again?
her cheeks would be stained, her lips stained with blood,
tell me, should it be that for we pray?"
Your voice, so soft, so gentle,
makes me gather my fragile - self a little.
I tucked myself, in a heinous maze,
losing sight of my own, of my love,
I let the warnings fall into deafness,
blindness screamed in the walls,
restlessness echoed back.
I let the fingers feel now,
the stains of my cheeks, my blood-stained lips,
the scratches running along my wrists,
but why, oh why have they traced themselves in your body too?
I pull you close, we let the tears flow.
Our embrace suddenly feels so warm,
and our little angel smiles from above,
and this time, we smile back.