THE YEAR THAT WAS.....
by Atul Chandra Sarkar - India
Look eyeful at me for the last time,
Look at me from head to heel,
Look at me and say ‘Goodbye’,
Let tumblers kiss with romantic feel;
I don’t have any baggage to pack,
I’ll go untied, unknotted and, free,
It’s time for the last leaf to fall from,
The twelve branched seasoned tree;
Time holds up the hacksaw,
Time holds both scythe and axe,
I appeared very strong to all,
But Time melts everything like wax;
I shall move out of sight tonight,
None of you shall see me again,
Criticize me as much as you want,
But don’t abuse me to utter pain;
Don’t look back pensively and say,
That I never gave you one good day,
Remember joys appear short-lived,
So with Time, tears too dry away;
I tried my best to divide each share,
May be a little more to someone,
Or to others, a little lesser than you,
Yet of everything, you too got ‘some’;
Don’t ignore those sleepless lots,
Who survived on wastes, remnants,
Stinky, stale, half bitten spit outs,
Unaware of old and new year events;
Those who didn’t get a thing,
Nor lost what they already possessed,
Should be content to have traveled,
Daily smoothly, from east to west;
If due to loss, someone was forlorn,
If due to agony someone was torn,
They too had their rejoices, maybe,
Parties, gifts or a cute newborn;
Each day I gave you a glorious day,
I added a year to your age,
Some fell in love, some dated,
Some got married, some got engage;
If streets witnessed last journeys,
That made their well-wishers cry,
The streets saw wild dances too,
As gaudy, bridal processions went by,
Write about me as you will:
A pain in the neck, a joy, or a grief,
I have to go; I am going, forgive me
For wrongs, turn over to a new leaf.
|
|
