Lamenting on the Passage of Time

Everything seems like it was only yesterday.
When did the colourful dreams turn to shades of grey?
Yet time has flown past, silent and on the sly.
In a wink, a year is quickly going by.

A few more patches of grey on the side-burn.
The visage is rounder, possibly a little worn?
Summer and winter pass by in quick succession.
The year going by, leaving behind only emotion.

Life has a new meaning, its back to days of struggle.
From the smooth highway, its down to dribble and juggle.
One keeps trying hard, lucky sometimes, unlucky most
The year going by, one can only reminisce and silently boast.

The heart is heavy, grudging steps drag on.
On the lips no longer rests a melody of a song.
Things I love, no longer find time for indulgence
The year going by, the robot like motions sometimes makes no sense!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Aabar Baithak - Coffee Shop or bor jaatri nibas?

C'mon! Everyone is entitled to a bad day. A day when nothing goes right and try as you might,    everything seems to be like it had just come under the impact of a tornado. Saturday probably was one such day for Abar Baithak and that was the day we decided to pay a visit to this place. Ever seen a marriage hall reserved for the bridegroom's kins to stay? The bridegroom's party is always larger than estimated, making any place reserved by the bride's parents look cramped. Abar Baithak looked, to us, just like such a place. There were people outside the house, young ones mainly, as if they had gathered outside for a smoke, away from the prying eyes of elders  ensconced inside the house. At an arm's length away from the band of these youngsters and sitting on chairs lining the walkway, were a few people, just like the workmen of decorators or lighting contractor who happen to sit down for an unscheduled break from decoration work, their feet stretched out and bodies...
Read more
The monkey bared it teeth in irritation,                             swinging from a branch of a tree. The Macaw’s cacophony-like laughter seemed,                                        To add salt to the injury! Birds of varied feathers, screeched noisily,                          and flew in circles inside the cage. The hippopotamus lazily rose from the water,                      shaking its head, as if in a fit of rage! The noise awoke...
Read more

The boat ride through Alleppy's Back-Waters

We drift on Meandering our way through the numerous canals as if to give company to those clusters of drifting water hyacinth. No hurry, the water goads the boat gently. “Feast on the life that unfolds by my banks”, it seems to say. “Look how the simple lives of these folks Keep them content and gay”! There’s a boy who takes a bath. By the canal banks he keeps a watch. In welcome he waves, in between his wash. And with mock disdain, he lets us pass. The women folk of the village Busy with their chores. Washing the clothes, they beat them sore. Keeping the home fire burning Is no mean a feat. To the banks they come, To retreat or is it some inspiration they seek? Some villages are small with houses of mud and clay. Thatched roofs of coir and dried leaves that keep nature’s elements at bay. The bigger villages have houses so pretty. Painted in bright colours, They appear to house only fun and gaiety. The temples are old but churches bright and painted new. In the land of red brigade, Re...
Read more