Poetry: Pankajam Kottarath

K Pankajam

Quest For New Skies

The quest for seeking new skies

as old as humanity’s subsistence 

gaining might, I set out on a journey

grit to quickly grab the alien land strong. 

 

My dreams are deep, wings of hope, strong

and I believe as winds of change come whispering  

clouds of uncertainty and pain have to disperse.

The destination is not far, fortitude floods in my veins

I adjust my sails to swiftly set my foot there.  

My mind weaves dreams to unreal proportions.

The new skies are waiting to greet me, I’m aplomb

Language, no barrier; a smile is all that does it.

Imbibing a culture hard, but credible, crucial is survival. 

Sun is the same, moon and stars too,

so are birds, streams and seas and everything else. 

Why then should the sky be different; It follows me quiet.

I too have a stake here; my dreams grow tall

Building an identity not easy, one half of my mind says

the other half says; You can grab it quickly.

Drown your ship of skepticism and take the oars of optimism.

***

Beseeches

Let this pillow wipe out my tears of isolation in thick dark nights,

the cozy comforter absorb my hot sighs in wintry hours 

pray long and lonely nights be a thing of the past,

sleep doesn’t ditch me or dreams don’t desert me. 

 

Pray the fairies of sleep sailing in the realm of slumber

visit me in the ethereal world of sleep

hopefully having made up their minds at last 

not to be diffident to pat my warring eyelids,

entice them to meet and merge in harmony

and see me off on a travel to some uncharted lands.  

Meanwhile, let the floating cotton candies floating in the sky

graciously descend and a clear sky greet the bracing shiny disc. 

Words can’t match or hold my delight in the next morn

acquiring the youthlike vigour and vitality 

like that of one seeing light after long-lasting darkness,

hearing a mellowed music after ages of subdued silence,

seeing a reared seed long buried in darkness taking sprouts

or the white rose in my garden barren for long 

surprises me with its first baby bud, all but fancy  

as my beseeches blend in the wind and go extinct.  

***

 

Distance

Distance is when

we are not in each other’s thoughts

and the hollow echo of loneliness hunts us. 

Distance is when

both of us have diverse goals 

travel in parallel paths, not meeting.

Distance is when

we ignore simple pleasures of life

and our open arms vacant meet with despair.

Distance is when

we give room for a third one prying

sniffing for cracks to widen them.  

Distance is when

we think of winning arguments between us,

lose goodwill and love erodes. 

Distance increases when

faith is gone, hope lost and both give up on the other  

and as empty life staring at you, you turn into a dry well.

 

Distance disappears  

even when the tangible miles between increase

but when self is lost the distance has to dwindle.

Distance is a hollow word.

When people crave for love and die for it

it can’t define love; minds alone define it.

***

 

Displacement

Someone plays flute

notes of which frolicking

flow on wings of the frosty wind  

that fondles my cheeks feebly.

Its refulgent and rhythmic flow

keeps the air mellowed and magical.

My senses dissolve in its charm 

intoxicates my moods, bestows me health

and turns the gloomy environs godly.

Oh Lord Krishna, I see none, but you,

as your divine music echoes in my heart

your name being synonymous with flute.

Between us distance can’t cause displacement

Envelop me in the fold of your indebtedness

bestow benign blessings on me till I reunite with you  

until then let your flute fill music in my soul.

*** 

---

Setu, July 2024