Minakhi Misra

Entering the bosom of the mountain,
Or passing through the curtains of rain,
Drowning into the confines of the oceans,
Following those celestial motions:
Countless though the manners be
Never was it more wonderful to see
Diving into those vaporising shrouds
Beams of pearly light through curly clouds.
A steady descent across the open sky
Annoyingly bright for the men who fly
During those last hours of a dying day
When the sun flares before it wanes away
Like a firebrand most bright before it is out
Painting the firmament crimson all about.
Holding my breath while breathing delight
I saw the transition to red from white
And back again when the sun went through
And the darkness above the vapours grew.
The Sun with its resilience refusing to die
Pierced once before bidding its final goodbye
With luminous blades broadening with length
From under the clouds with its solar strength.

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Originally shared with a friend in the Winter of 2012

Tempted, I peep into those quartered compartments
In expectation of some culinary eccentricity from the mundane.
Forsooth, the heart breaks only to discover that
Fate denies any relief from the moroseness of the monotone.
I hope I may find a way out, perhaps by chance.
Nay, says the wallet, and the appetite is sacrificed.

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Originally shared with internship colleagues in the Summer of 2012

Waiting for the train to come,
Lugging my luggage, I stood
Holding the ticket I had booked
Hoping I could reach home.

He held his handless arm out
Pleading with his empty eye
That had now become so dry
His temple sweating with doubt.

Mixing with the longing to leave
Came an emotion from the back
That really took the mind off track
And made me morally grieve.

Grieve for the losses he bore
At the age when he should play.
How his fortune had turned away
Leaving him at Deprivation’s door!

Only a frowning face so grim,
Which never gave him any respite:
That’s all he received, despite
My heart going out for him.

A result of a modicum of disdain
For the sordid, squalid lives
Of poor men and their wives.
I stood there stoic, but so vain.

His importunate eye never left me.
Diffident, he made no noise.
Stolidly steady, he gave no voice
To the reason of his necessity.

The blare of the approaching train,
Derisive of our befallen hush
Reproved the insolent boy to rush
To escape the stampede of men.

A boiling cauldron of emotion was I:
Relieved, ashamed, guilty and spurred
All at once with moral vision too blurred
To see a solitary tear in a solitary eye.

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Originally shared with a friend in the Summer of 2012

Take me not for a slight recluse,
When I spend my time locked in a room,
Alone with none but my choicest books,
Take not that I spend my days in gloom.

Oh Love, I enjoy, your company much,
Alike in breaking bread and sweat.
Only know that from the company of books
I derive as much as from you I get.

For then I travel with the thoughts of those
Whose words are known to blaze new trails,
Whose philosophy withstands all hosts
Of waves and flames and gusts and gales.

I discover then, what shapes my mind,
What desires blossom in my heart,
What joys flood matters grey and white,
And what shatters my blood chambers apart.

Pardon me if I lose myself in dreams,
When I should with you spend the day.
If I choose the Owl and the nocturnal beings,
Over you and the sun, your forgiveness I pray.

Take not that I love you less,
For that will be an untruth said,
Except that Solitude I love the best
Walking alone on paths only I can tread.

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Originally shared with a friend in the Summer of 2012

Walking down this path is already so trying,
When so many more have given up in crying.
Don’t know what’s next in store.
Can’t take the burden anymore.
So, let me see the Beaconlight,
that will guide me on my way.
Oh, let me be the Fireknight,
who will all my troubles slay.
Give me please, the Godsmight
to bear this laboring load.
Give me please, the Eaglesight
for the Fork in the Road…

For the Fork in the Road.

I know that one path will ease my life till my dying,
I know that the other will be all the more dignifying.
But I don’t know what path to choose,
I have too much that I can lose,
So let me bathe in the Wisdom Stream,
to learn the truth today.
Oh, let me take in the Oracle Dream,
to see the Future’s play.
Give me please, the Crystal Beam,
to find the Mother Lode.
Give me please, the Self-Esteem
for the Fork in the Road…

For the Fork in the Road

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Originally shared with a friend in the Summer of 2012

Beware the moment that inspires clarity, my friend,
For clarity of objects near, occludes focus on subjects afar.
And so forebodes, by courtesy of things overlooked, the end
That instigates between you and yourself a civil war
Of love-hate and caution-risk, casualties both sides alike
Driving a blade of guilt deliberately through your conscience.
Finally beat of all your strength, you try with difficulty to psych
For a moral defeat, only to learn of life’s ephemeral transience.
Therefore, once more ignoring my original advice, you take
Another chance to chance upon the object so close at hand.
Its clarity captivating you to have you your foresight forsake
Again, the hourglass of doubt turned to release its sand.
Trust not then that which presents itself fully transparent,
Look for those ghosts in the dark, not so readily apparent.

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Originally shared with a friend in the Summer of 2012

Spilling blood into the bosom of the seas,
Anchored into drowning, holding its breath,
Melts slowly into an ocean of disease.
If the Sun cannot escape this cycle of death:
Kaleidoscope of Nature’s murders,
Say how do I live knowing I would someday
Heave myself in fits and shudders
Yawping and pleading to Death to let me stay?
Answer in earnest, what you think of the Sun,
Mirrored in the waters, when the day is done.
Either you perceive a moment inspired,
Heart-filling with touches of warmth, or
Expiring, notwithstanding the soul full fired,
Rested in darkness: a corpse to be sorry for.

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Originally shared privately with a friend in the summer of 2011

Shamefully aware of your accusations,
Arrested in time, I bid my head to bow.
Meeting your eye is a labour so large that
Infinity itself will stand ashamed, as I do now.
Kafkaesque, is how I have become, with
Shadows shadowing me through my dreams,
Haunting me with my own guilt and draining
Youthful lustre as blood, amidst my screams.
Atonement I seek: only a chance to chance upon you,
Melting in your solar warmth as once I was wont to.
Ebullience I seek again: freedom to laugh and cry with you.
Heavenly Heavens! Deliver me from this cruel fate of doom
Ere it consumes me whole, leaving a ghost who walks,
Reminding the world of sinners of their imminent gloom.

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Originally shared privately with a friend in the summer of 2011