Pankajam Kottarath


Last Journey(A Tribute)


Lost to malignant cells in brain
She lies confined to bed,
awaiting the last call
in the dim lantern light
of her old ancestral house
where death peeped from
behind the moving shadows.

A girl in her twenties,
once youthful and bright,
innumerable dreams that we shared,
destined to get buried with her,
never to bloom.

Two generations before her
waited with thorns in throats
not sure, when
the curtain will be pulled down.

Her fiancé,
maternal uncle's son,
a military jawan
engaged to her
from early childhood,
vented out his burning heart
in coils of burnt cigarettes

The small window pane
in the poorly lit bedroom
made creaking sounds;
whistling winds outside
induced instant fear,
crippled my faculties
and rendered my breath heavy.

Was it the knock of
messengers of Yama,
in black clothes
riding on big buffalos
with thick ropes
to secure her trip
to take away the loved one,
at the ordained time, sharp
at her doorsteps?

I prayed for hours
pleading to leave her, but
little did I know that
nothing could better
her chance for life.

Music of lub-dub stopped
and she went into the past
Yet
lingers in some corner
of my memory,
warm and moist.

Submitted: Tuesday, March 06, 2012
Edited: Wednesday, March 07, 2012

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