by Atul Chandra Sarkar
I have made the best of parting,
Captured the fondest moments,
Encaged the saddest thoughts,
In stanzas and verses,
She has made me a poet;
Now whenever I wish to see her,
I go through scribbles and doodles,
Which have flowed from,
My pensive pen and I see her,
Standing beside a fountain,
The last witness of our duologue;
The grass around dampens,
So do I, with the strangest,
Realization that Agony too,
Has an enigma of its own:
Some break, some survive,
Some fall and end,
Some rise and walk;
She is in and out of me,
In rhymes and blanks,
She has made me a poet:
A poet rejoicing in elegy,
A poet at home with dirge,
A poet of requiem, finally,
A poet of my epitaph.
- Share this Poem:
ABOUT THE POET ~
Double Post Graduate in Philosophy and Sociology and LLB degree-holder, a Gold Medalist from Canning College, University of Lucknow, U.P. India. Presently engaged as Advisor (Industrial Relations) and Public Information Officer (Corporate) at Uttar Pradesh Rajya Vidyut Utpadan Nigam Ltd., Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh, India and is a Guest Faculty at Electricity Training Institute, Sarojini Nagar, Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh on the Right to Information Act, 2005. An Advocate registered with the Bar Council. Articles, poems and short stories have been published in popular National dailies like Pioneer, Northern India Patrika, Times of India, Campus Verse, Shaktivani, etc. A Blogger at Times of India's speakingtree and having a flair for oil painting. A democratic, liberal and humanist to the core.
Last updated July 26, 2016