Much Ado About Nothing.... Poem by Avik Datta Gupta

In the lonely bliss of solitude…
I look up to the troubled sky
And try to remember a day
Far..Far…away
In the oblivion on my inner self
With portions of recollections
And wishful imageries of my subconscious mind
And..I suddenly seem to realize
That quite a bit of me is still unused…
Somewhere..my mind is still unamused..
My energies are yet to be depleted..
Some subconscious goals still remain uncompleted..
Till now my life seems to be …
Yet another un-integrated story..
Written by a classic imperfect author..
Without a plan or a thought of splendour
Remembrances of which flash up in patches
Like a lightening flash ripping the darkness to light..
For a fraction of a second..
They often come in the murky haze of obscurity..
And sometimes emphatically etched..
On my dust laden mental archives.
I try to remember the first thought..
Eversince I was born…
As I look into the eyes of my infant child..
Blabbering meaningful thoughts and illusions..
Beyond my threshold of comprehensions..
Caught in the labyrinth of her bitter sweet imagery
Trying to express no one could decipher
Yet can have a glimmer of her feelings..
That of pain, hunger, mirth and the need for sleep
No conclusions or inferences I’d need to make
The painting of my life so far…
Is too dynamic to be framed…
Too many experiences to be written
A plethora of of situations worth remembering…
And forgotten the next instant..
In case you wish to take a plunge into me
Take a look at the little world within me..
Don’t touch, don’t hold, but just feel for me..
From the oblivious miles…
But why would you care..?
Since it is all there within you
Very similarly as it is within me…!
I may not be remembered
And maybe you will..
It all depends upon one’s expressive skills
We talk, we touch, we hit, we live
But the feeling of love is not what we can give
Apart from ourselves….And to those people,
Whom we swear to love today…
Since today is a time for pleasure..
And if tomorrow comes..it might be a day..
Where promises are meant to be broken..
Pebbles of petrified soft feelings needs to be shaken
For the feelings of disarray to fall in place..
Before it’s time to move on..it’s time to race