Poetry: Jyotsna Mishra 'Sana'

An Indian Girl

One dark night in a lonely house
Everyone heard a melodious cry,
The nurse told, "Its a baby girl "
And she was welcomed with a sigh.

She grew up, somehow unwantedly
But reserved a special place
In hearts where she pinned as thorn
Still had love and moved in grace.

She moved like a gentle breeze
Flew on the wings of a butterfly
She sketched some beautiful rainbows
From the green fields to the azure sky.

Then came that strange day
As told she was now a big girl
The looks of people had changed
There were secrets, yet to unfurl.

She feared seasons as she had
Scary nights and painful days
All around superstitions n taboos
She went through awful ways.

Shunned was she as though
She had committed a sin
Dragged in dark she was
All her dreams went all dim.

Ignoring the changes and chains
Denied she the understated screams
Outpaced the hurdles, she sprouted
And embellished all her dreams.

But life, Alas! What lies in its folds
Came a gentle looking sojourner
Touched her with the beautiful words
Bewitched she fell for this conjourer.

Leaving behind her childhood abode
Stepped into that dreamt heaven
Soon felt the chains and bonds
Gifted to her by the oath of seven.

All the day she ferried through
The rush hours of each day
With a fake smile though
She forgot what made her gay.

Tired of being stuck in toxic relationships and atmospheres,
Tired of hypocrisy and lies in
A world full of fakes and veneers.

Still she tried to hold on with
Moments that made her restless and sad
No respite she found from the intense ache
Made her lose the calm she always had

Finally one day she decided
To unwrap this unwanted shroud
To find new roads, that maybe
Full of harsh sunshine and cloud

She rose to dispel darkness and
Spill radiance to find new hopes
She believed not to give up on life
Promised herself the ample joy's scopes.
***


Tired is my Body

Tired is my body
My soul is cumbersome
Don't remember when did life went out of flow
I heard something cracked inside though.

The crack has reached the core of my feelings,
Now barren is the town,
Silence are the windows
So is now my dwellings.

The silence is killing
Not just the inside of me
But also the surroundings around
It seems time is sentenced to death
The pulse of revolution is ground.

My heart has drowned somewhere..
Don't remember when did the connection break
No ends can I find anywhere
Everything of mine has become fake..

Tired is my body
My soul is cumbersome
Don't remember when did life went out of flow
I heard something cracked inside though.
***


Life With You

Life with you was
Never a bed of roses
It wasn't of thorns either.
Though I never felt the
Pain of thorns nor did I
Know how it's felt on feather.

Your words scorched me
At times, but you were the
One with me in all weather.

Always wanted you matured
You showed immaturity rather
People loved talking to you
I found silence between us better.

Besides all the complaints we
Have in store for each other
I still want to live and grow old
Till our Golden Jubilee together.

25 years with you was
Never a bed of roses
It wasn't of thorns either.
***


Nature is Not Poetic

Nature is not poetic
You said it right
Yes, nature is not poetic
And hell yes
It doesn't rhyme with us either

But let me tell you
For the last time,
Till the time
Drills a deal with hills
Or streams keep turning into dreams
Nature can't make any sense

It is just expecting harvest
From a barren land
Yet this is not what I want
You to remember
When you read this poem

I want you to cry, shout,
Ponder upon this fact
I want you to peep into
Your past done act
I want you to question me,
Yourself and the whole world

Why has mother nature
Always been assaulted
I want you to raise questions
They might be stupid, maybe plain
Maybe uncomfortable -
Still they ought to be raised

Why is it that we keep
snatching more than we
actually need from the nature?

Someday,
I don't want to assume
right or wrong
When nature will start thinking
about the significance
and irrelevance of your
behaviour and of your
Version of the truth

There definitely will be a few
Protests on that very day
No matter how similar
Or different it maybe,
I know
It surely won't be poetic

So start worrying
Pen it down
Say it aloud
But smile
Keep calm
And tell everyone.

You are right,
Nature doesn't rhyme with us
Yes, it is not poetic
But neither are we with it......
***


Well! No you cannot.

You said my words should
Always be full of 'gratitude',
Agreed, but can you assure
They won't show me their 'attitude'
Well! No you cannot.

You said to bow before
The tides when they are 'high'
Agreed, but can you assure
They won't lead me to 'sigh'
Well! No you cannot.

You said being a 'girl'
I should always be ' humble'
Agreed, but can you assure
They won't let me 'scrumple'
Well! No you cannot.

You said I should be polite
And shouldn't be ' aggressive'
Agreed, but can you assure
They won't ever be so ' decisive'
Well! No you cannot.

You said ' I'm a woman'
I shouldn't flaunt my 'pride'
Agreed, but can you assure,
They can really stop my 'stride'
Well! No you cannot.
***

---

Setu, August 2020