The Final Deliverance: Need of Our Times!

Pranab Ghosh

The letters

Go on to add.

Words form...

Ideas...!

The

More

The

Merrier...?

Clashes...

Civilization...

War...

Peace...

Revolution...

Evolution...

Darwin... 

The imperialists...

The usurpers...

The rulers...

The dominion...

If you want to expel one,

why not expel the other?

And...

Finally yourself...?

"Well...

Who will rule then?"

The dissapearing state...!

What if, what you rule

'wither' away?

Theory and practice...?

Old proverbs made new

Old wine in a new bottle?

Births...

Deaths...

Life in between...

Go

On

And

On

And...

On!

The mechanics of being

MECHANICAL?

The dialectics of life...?

Particles matter.

But suspended particulate matters?

It does!

Do they not?

Yes!

Too much of those?

Too little of those?

Well...

'Environmentalist's attitude' to life?

Live Green

Stay Green

Protect the Green.

Green?

Do not go 'green'... please!

Grin!

Grin!

Grin!

'Envy' seems to be the trigger

to make and mar?!

Well...

'Greed'... . Has that anything to do with envy?

What is the relationship between...

4

And

16

And

64

Envy...

Greed...

'What gets multiplied and to beget what?"

How many times?

Time questions time...

Time questions the time keepers...

Time questions the dawn

And

The dusk...

The river bathes in the rays

of the dying sun...

It's color changes

Ripples take shape as

the launch moves... .

Waves touch the shore...

its color does not change... !

The soil, a mixture of

fertility and memories

bolsters the story of civilization...

of lovers standing, squatting, sitting...

and

even lying on it, with

Dreamy...

Perturbed...

Vacant...

Eyes...?!!!

You carry the life, the remnants of it too

that fire fails to turn into ashes...

In an earthen pot

Covered in soil

And 

That

Pot...

Waves

Feed

On...

Waves

After

Waves

They do not have names...

Or any identity...

They only come

One

After

The

Other

And

Submerge...

'Your memories?!'

Grief?

Existence?

You cannot look back

You can only...

Break

And

Fetch

And

Move on...

Without

Looking

Behind?

What is left behind...

What is forgotten 

What is said

And

What is undone?

What you did

thousands before you had done

and thousands after you would do...

The repetition 

Of life and death

And

Rituals...

Following 

Registration...?

Chroniclers are important!

We know...!

My history...

My emotions...

My memories...

The state keeps a tab!

That far

And

No further!

A

Tale...

What if someone

con to dupe another one

in life and in death?

What if...

What if...

What if... ?

As you stand alone by the

windy river and see

the waves getting carried away

by the breeze, not into the sea,

but into your veins and they begin

to throb, not with pain, neither joy,

but something... something... something...

that is beyond the realms of senses - the feelings you had always managed to describe with the help of your sensory 

organs, but not today!

Today seems to be different...

Different!

Different!

Your sensory organs have not

failed, neither are they on a

holiday; only the waves of the

rolling river have moistened them

to such an extent that neither the

wind nor the heat, so integral to

the sultry evening by the side of the 

Kolkata river, can manage to make

them as responsive to the emotional

triggers as they shall have been!

No...

No...

No...

They respond...

They are responsive...

They are like the spirit that

has departed, they are as

eternal as life itself,

unscathed by the elements...

Yet they are affected!

Yet they are...

The sensory organs...!

The waves roll on

So does the time...

When will the time come?

You queue up...

Both in life

And

In

Death!

Your time has come!

You are ready...

The final remnants of life

And

The

Burden

You

Get

"You are rid now of the...

BURDEN!"

You are!

You see the burden 

turn into ashes...

Are you free

Now?

Are you?

The

Burden...?!

Well life weighs

me down

Pins me down

Harder

Harder!

Harder!

When will you break free?

My heart isn't a combustible 

Engine

There's no four-wheel drive

There's no driver's seat

There's no power steering 

There's no...

Muscles and

No

Wheels

Turn...

But

Even

Then...

Life rolls on...

And you watch 

from a distance

with all impartiality...

Life rolls on

And...

Well...

Where are your skates?

What?

Glide!

You will have to...

Your body has become 

too heavy for your legs!

The weight of the land 

is crushing you

pulling you down

perhaps to the center of the Earth!

Center of the Earth?

It's to the childhood sci-fi...

Mind you...

It's real...

Life here has flown out

of the final layer of the...

Gravitation denied

there's nothing to pull it

back, keep it in its place...

It has been thrown into the 

VOID

that will not even, when overcome,

help you reach the eternal source

of life, beyond chaos... !

It will have to be broken

into pieces, shredded

And

Then

Renewed!

The control panel has

gone berserk... .

No man can hit on

the 'right' button...

All malfunctioning 

And...

There's no auto-drive

mode... an absolute

failure in planning!

And

Hence

Execution!

You are...

Executed!

Executed!

Executed!

Executed!

You will have to...

Eliminate!

Liquidate!

And

Then

Regenerate!

That's the...

DEMAND!

And...

Deliver one must!

***

Bio: Pranab Ghosh is an internationally published award-winning journalist, writer and poet. His third anthology of poems, Karma Cola, has been published by the UK-based Impspired.com in June 2023. His fourth anthology of poems, Love, Religion and Politics is slated for release shortly.

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Setu, September 2023