Meghna Mukul: Figures of Thought: Collegiate Voices across Spaces

Le temps changeant

I had a story to tell when the night growled
When the stars cried, for the clouds hauled
I began it with howling rain, pouring from
The crying stars, burning in the coldest war
I told my story with ecstasy, with smiling
And whirling chemistry, wet was the land and mind.
Dried up rivers where no one could see a life,
I waited for the end of times, where I shall remain to tell
This story of a thousand dares, and how we
Separated all the love, curiosity and sense;
The story was a fashion, a mad connection
A single word could show the lasts
And a whole sentence could confuse the sads.
Like a strong wind I blew past them, those that resist
Apocalypse, those who were already stained,
I left them behind I skipped the signs
I held the bars of cage that resides inside my life
I tied myself to the joys of life but how,
Tell me how could I resign from this heist
Of identities, of insecurities, all the things that discarded
The existent documentaries, the shining inventories.
The seasons, the reasons, the words that made
What it meant to be, what it would be reluctantly
The characters that shed no light, that knew no sight
The visionaries that predicted this fight
This story of dubious pride, the absence of light
And presence of mind, the civil, the barbaric
Those that held their heads high while the deception took
Their rights, the purpose and the wise.


I dived in the ocean
But couldn't find a shell
The pearls I wanted
Were hidden inside them
I fell in love with water
Which was still and had travelled
Far distances with many hurdles
With burden of thousand riddles
I dived in deeper to know more secrets
It was as if I found my island
Of new jewels in form of silence
And my pearls I still longed for
So I went again to tackle
With my doubts and my desires
To know if I can believe in miracles.
When the rays dived after me
The surface full of reflections
Attracted me, the shinning diamond it seemed
It was fascinating like dreams
But were illusions momentary
And the ultimate thing was still
A mystery I needed to reveal
My breath was about to release
When I saw the treasury
Beautifully it was lying
On the throne made of stone
Like a king in the court
My final judgement was to start
So I opened it once
There I saw a small heart
I glanced and couldn't stop
My hands from touching the one
Pearl admired for so long
I felt a little uneasy then
And I left the place all of a sudden
I was gay by only looking
Why to disturb the nature again?

Author's Bio:  Meghna Mukul is a Bachelor of Arts (B.A.) English Literature student at Banasthali Vidyapith, Rajasthan, and an aspiring writer. She attempts to reflect human emotions and scenes from daily life sin her stories and poems with other elements such as symbols, imagery and stream of consciousness.

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