Voices Within: Madhu Sriwastav

Madhu Sriwastav is an Assistant Professor of English based in Kolkata. She is also a poet, translator, reviewer and creative writer. Her poems have been published and anthologised in National and International journals and magazines, online as well print such as Setu, Borderless Journal, GloMag, OPA, Kali for Women Invoking the Goddess Within, Das Literarch etc. Her debut book of poems Trips Climbs Circles has been well reviewed.

Memories

You are like the salt in the waves

however much it might retreat from the shore

it always carries it within

and smears it on the sand

that doesn't show its saltiness

but carries it in its grains

each and every one

even when it is no longer in the shore near the sea 

or the blue waves do not kiss its sunset sprays

You are like the marks on the moon

that stand out like scars on a beaten face on a full moon night

The moon carries the scars 

the pain of being marked

even when it shines bright as a silver sickle, 

dazzlingly beautiful in the night sky.

You are like the water in a dry river

that has littered its bed with skeletons of dead fish and moss around pebbles

Its fingers have clawed every brook every bed

that are parched with its wet memories

What does it matter if we are miles apart?

You are the memory the soul carries

 when it leaves the body for its journey last!

***

Vacuum spaces

I changed my city and my job

Now I travel to different domains

work among different people

My expressions, style, my profile

 so much has changed

Yet I remain as a vacant spot in your memory

The fragrance of the red rose 

a cliched valentine gift

 still wafts my mind

I removed myself from physical spaces

yet I remain in gifts you promised but never made

The emptied tiffin boxes you lovingly devoured

The firm grip of your hand when I shut my eyes

 in the sudden storm that arose

You remain in the glimmers of time

stolen from the pale of mundane life

The sudden trails of white smoke that criss cross afternoon the sky

tailing the silver jets we together gaped

 reflecting the hot sun

You remain in the window shop mannequin

 that displayed the leather jacket

you wanted and I could never buy

You remain in the bubbles arising incessantly in a frothy beer glass

cool and refreshing with a tangy bitterness that gives a high!

Change of place, job, profile

strangely didn't change the vacuums of my heart

that holds on to days past!

***

Stain

I do not wait for you to pick up the phone

for confirmation or denial

anymore

Day in and day out waiting degraded, eroded my self-esteem

as a dog waits outside a butcher’s shop

tongue lapping, salivating for its bone and carcass bit

Sometimes it gets and sometimes it is only humiliated by a tease

 in the slight of the butcher’s look

that sells off the last bits and gives the remains to someone else

as it displays its power to the creature that whines in pain

Pain of indignity it keeps aside 

as now it has to deal with the pangs of hunger to survive

as survival becomes more important than the luxury of pride

Yet once it has enough to keep itself alive

it barks and boos at the butcher from afar

to settle its score

Love is a beautiful feeling that bonds two loving hearts

but if one flexes it's powerful muscles

the other shrinks and fills with gall

Then love becomes a monster, an evil spirit

that sucks all joy and peace within

It becomes an ordeal to cleanse oneself and come out clean

Like the water that washes a stain

itself becomes soiled 

gets tinged and coloured by the stain 

One can subdue and push painful heartstrings away

into the dark recesses of the brain

Only to surface at every occasion

when you unwittingly cross those tortuous lanes.

***

---

Setu, February 2022