Special Edition: Ritu Kamra Kumar

Ritu Kamra Kumar

Crimson Testament

I — Prism of perfumed passion,

Laid to rest in sepia folds of time,

Cradled within a tome of tender verse

I am memory made petal,

A sweet whisper of lovers two,

Their breath and bond caught in crimson silk.

A symbol am I—sublime, eternal,

Of love unspoken yet profoundly felt,

Sensuous and sensitive, beauty bounteous.

In my petulant petals, they found themselves:

Hope, heartache, and hallelujah.

Still, I stir the air

With the elation of lips once brushed,

The tremble of hearts once bold,

The music of moments stolen

By poetic prodigies in twilight's hush.

Ah, their love lingers- faded yet fervent,

A fire folded into parchment.

This, too, is art - weightless, wondrous,

A sonnet pressed in stillness.

A universe resides within my shrivelled form.

I—reddening rhapsody—recount a thousand truths,

Each vein a verse,

Each curve a chronicle.

I cradle the cry and craving of creation,

A blend rare and radiant:

Emotion, intellect, and aesthetic grace.

A bejewelled bride of benign books,

Cloaked in dust,

Yet humming with entranced elixirs

An enchanted essence drawn from souls entwined.

Yes, my fragrance has waned

Only a wisp remains,

A breath on the edge of remembrance.

Yet I endure.

Still. Sacred. Spellbound.

The pious pulse of lovers’ past

Still thrums in my faded hue.

I was a witness. I was a vessel.

And now, I am a poet, too.

***

The Transition

I. Spring Surge

Teenage tempest—angst and fire,

Restless hearts with wild desire.

Dreams ablaze, laughter loud,

Eyes fixed firm beyond the cloud.

Each day a spark, each night a flame,

We raced the wind, dared stars by name.

To rise, to shine—that was our creed,

Ambitions bloomed like garden weed.

In spring’s soft glow, we ran unbound,

With youthful hope and joy profound.

II. Autumn Light

Now time has brushed its mellow hue,

And quiet lives where thunder grew.

No longer drawn to crowded halls,

I walk where golden silence falls.

Applause once echoed in my ear,

But now the stillness draws me near.

The leaves descend, their colors deep,

Like stories trees no longer keep.

Each step I take, a softer sound,

As memory blooms from fertile ground.

III. Winter Wisdom

The years unwind, a gentle stream,

And truth arrives not in a scream.

Ideas rise, then drift away,

Like petals loosed in wind’s ballet.

The shell may fade, but not the flame,

It flickers on without a name.

I do not grieve what I outgrew—

All things transform, and so must you.

The setting sun, the final gate,

Is not the end, but merely fate.

IV. Embrace

Let autumn come with all its grace,

Its falling leaves, its soft embrace.

No fear remains, just open skies,

Where every end is but disguise.

To cross the bar is not to part,

But journey deeper into heart.

And like the phoenix in its flame,

We rise again—reborn in name.

***

I Want to Be Little Again

Let me be little again—

In a brand-new polka-dot frock,

Twirl and twinkle down the lane,

Beaming with pride as I walk.

Let me be little again—

Hide my arms in sweater sleeves,

Pretend they’re lost, then cry and grin,

Spinning tales no one believes.

Let me be little again—

Tiptoe, crouch behind the door,

Startle guests with shrieks of glee,

Then slam it shut and laugh some more.

Let me be little again—

Sail paper boats in monsoon drains,

Launch paper planes with whoops and cheers,

In skirmishes of childhood games.

Let me be little again—

Blow birthday candles, cheeks aglow,

Cycle hands-free, wild and free,

In mother’s arms, swing to and fro.

Let me be little again—

No burdens, no masks to wear,

No hearts to mend, no need to blend,

Just sunshine, giggles, and open air.

Let me be little again—

Eavesdrop as elders talk in hush,

Hiding behind the heavy oak,

In silence, feeling the midnight rush.

I long for that innocent space,

When dreams were drawn in crayon hue—

Back when they’d ask, “What will you be?”

And I, not knowing, simply knew:

I only wish to be little… somehow.

***

Bio: Dr. Ritu Kamra Kumar, Retd. Officiating Principal and Associate Professor of English at MLN College, Yamuna Nagar, is an acclaimed academician, poet, and writer. With over 400 contributions to leading national newspapers and magazines, she has published 70+ research papers in reputed national and international journals and edited books. A noted resource person and speaker, she has led workshops and panel discussions nationwide, including at the Delhi Book Fair 2024. Honored by the District Administration and featured as an Empowered Woman by The Hindustan Times, she is a recipient of the Indian Woman Achiever Award and authored eight acclaimed books.

 

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Setu, May 2025