Poetry - Paromita Sengupta

Waves

For a long time, a very long time... I was occupied with birth... a birth that remained unborn.

In between came deaths - in various forms.

Deaths that happened, in my house and my friends’, in my country and my neighbors’, in newspapers and on tv channels.

And then there were deaths that didn’t happen, but scared me to death anyway, so much so that death seemed to hang on every wall in every room in my house like a wall clock…

Tick-tock, Tick-tock, Tick-tock, Tick-tock...

Between birth and death, did life start slipping away?

Did I forget to spare a thought for life and for living?

LIFE

that unfolded as I rushed through it, willingly or unwillingly, mindfully or unmindfully, consciously or unconsciously, without stopping to ask, ‘where to?’

that happened by chance not choice, and was there all the while, while I toyed with birth and death toyed with me...

Can I reclaim life? Can living be by choice not by chance?

Can Life

unravel slowly like a journey along the sea coast that offers breathtaking views

Or

be savored in every bite like a slow cooked dish that was well marinated with flavorful spices, balanced well.

Can I again,

begin to see beauty in little details, poetry in uneven rhythms, wisdom in waves BIG & small ?

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