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.

***

Pearls

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?

***

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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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Setu, June 2021