Poetry – Paromita Sengupta


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?


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
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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