An Indian summer day

The mercury is rising as the beads of sweat trickle down the forehead,

Under the burning fiery sun, everything seems nothing but half dead.

Leaves have dried up and so have our throats.

Lights go off and fans don’t move often.

Now, even the rooms seem like the chamber of an oven.

Days seem like ‘trials by fire’. Nights are no less

a painful ordeal of time and temperature to face.

Eyes look up in despair yet the clouds are nowhere to be seen.

Occasionally, they do show up yet one just wonders what their silence does mean.

They hover above yet never rain.

Seeing that most sink in despair while few run insane.

Cursing the summer while drinking the lemonade,

Trying to blow in some life into dried and exhausted bodies half dead.

Subrat Mohanty

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Simplicity

Simple things have their own charm,

That the confused hanging minds won’t understand.

Simplicity of the thoughts,

Innocence of its expressions,

Trickling like a stream through the boulders ,

Softening gradually the rough edges hidden by the complexities of the times.

There are no alternatives to it. It is a single choice to be made.

To be what one is. To speak what one feels is.

Simply yet beautifully.

For simplicity touches the soul although pretensions may still tickle the mind.

Subrat Mohanty

Gratitude

What you yearn to get, may still be a distant dream.

Yet what you have is a gift, howsoever small it may seem.

What you got, found or met certainly could have gone the other way.

Now that you have it, you may not feel what you would have felt on that odd day.

Life seems good for those brief moments of joy,

Giving reasons to feel happy then and latter memories to enjoy.

Yet, the moments of sorrow often feel so heavy to bear

That those moments of good luck now seem so far which once upon a time, seemed so near.

The heart ought to feel a bit, stand up and say

“Yesterday may be mine and today things may not happen my way.

But, thank you my lord for what you gave me. You hold my life now. You had touched my day, then.”

Subrat Mohanty

The paradox of being normal

“Hey..just chill ! Be normal !”

                                         “But how ?”

“Why are you serious ? Life is never meant to be heavy.

Have a bit of fun just like the way rest do.”

                                    ” I tried figuring how they do.

                                    But couldn’t ever know them or you.

                                   They smile with others yet never mind cursing at least few of them behind.

                                  They seem to be happy yet hold few prickly issues in mind.

                                 They say they love yet I have heard them abusing

                                Probably even those abuses were borne out of that love!

                              They care, they fight. They reconcile and again show their might.

                             They preach doctrines of righteousness,

                            yet their faith is tickled by feathers of opportunism.

                           They want true things, yet they are contended with pretensions.

                          The world’s this way and we are a part of it – they say.”

                         I search for my answer through the lanes of this world.

                       My mind listens to a lot of those yet heart stubbornly waits for the answer.

 Subrat Mohanty

An evening of my life

I take few steps under the cloudy sky,

I walk with nothing and drop my mind by.

The cool winds blow from far off lands,

Signalling it is time for a change.

Those coconut trees far away, wave gently against the evening silhouette.

I close my eyes and let the wind just touch my soul.

Touch my soul and cool the restless heart forever.

Words couldn’t satisfy me. I search for solace in silence.

I let myself dissolve in the darkness far away from myself.

The fragnance laden breeze turn a new page every time in my mind.

A new perspective of the time unfolding in my mind, I find.

The clouds gather. Rain drops start falling.

I return into my house, once again believing in life that I had been living.

Subrat Mohanty

A reason to move on

Let no one be the reason for what you do now.

Let their indifference not be strong to break you forever.

Every step you take makes you a bit stronger, a bit wiser,

Every step you leave behind may spur someone fly higher.

Failures and rejections may seem like a wall.

But walls can always be climbed and crossed over.

If we fall one day, we can still rise and start all over.

Follow your dreams just for its sake.

Let people walk away from you for sometime.

When time will come, people and fate both shall meet you one day.

Till then, keep thy hand over thy heart and walk your way.

A tight rope walker

“Walk walk…You need to reach that end”

“No time to stop and look. No time to let your shoulders droop or knees bend”

“With a stick of my work in hand and eyes fixed on the end,

I walk slowly with measured steps ahead.

The rope sways a bit while my heart trembles a lot.

Who knows when shall things fall apart? Who knows whether my fate shall stand by me or not ?

Okay…but I need to keep my mind still.

My hands should remain steady while a lot of things I feel.

I often lean a bit to the either sides of the rope..even a gentle gush of air distracts me for sometime.

Yet I bring myself back to my position…aligning myself with my present.

People standing below, clap at my feat.

To them it looks straight and neat.

But often things are different from what they seem.

Indeed, I walk. I walk on the tight rope of life.

On one side, it is my fear and on other my survival, my life.”

An Exile Into Myself

Now that the lanes of life are slowly falling silent,

I don’t mind walking a bit alone.

All those who were around me, have now gone away somewhere.

Perhaps they are busy now, perhaps they have grown cold.

They have matters more dear to their mind,

They have few dreams to achieve only after they find.

Whatever be the reason, I feel I am alone,

Standing in a solitary corner of this messy world.

On the verge of setting out on an exile into myself,

Far from the cobwebs of expectations and disappointments abound.

I sink slowly in the beneath the ripples of the fake world,

For some time atleast, I wish to lose myself to find the purpose of my life.

To understand the situations that my fate paints for me,

To decipher the clue that my life seems to be giving to me.

Subrat Mohanty

About Memories

Faint drops of the past scattered on the fabric of our mind,

Slowly but firmly, the mind and the heart get bind.

Get bind and dissolve in those moments of intense feelings,

Falling backwards from the cliff of the present into the canyons of the past.

Laughing and crying,

Joking and cursing,

Moments of fears and moments of tears,

Life keeps rolling by yet the mind often gets caught up in one of those spokes

Sometimes, one pauses by for no reason while the mind simply soaks

Soaking those memories that melt and flow from those frozen pieces of time

Memories are painful,

Memories are beautiful,

Memories are ageless,

Memories are simply priceless !

Subrat Mohanty

A portrait of hallucinations

I paint a portrait of my thoughts deep within,

No sooner I finish it, it starts seeping in.

My past seems to have come alive in front of me,

Logic melting away and thoughts breaking free.

I see a future that is yet to come,

Thoughts falling apart like a house of cards and kicking a storm,

That sweeps me away for sometime through the currents of time.

I feel I am not there although I still continue to be there.

I blow bubbles of my imagination,

And then prick them with the needle of my logic.

Between this blowing and bursting, I seek few moments of solace.

Solace for having what I still have,

Then, I gently lay my head on the pillow of my faith – faith in the way things just happen

Listening to the lullabies of my dreams, I pass away into the oblivion it seems.

Wherein, I wish there is just me and my dreams