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richasmukherjee.com

love, laughter, pain, joy, life and its lessons, one word at a time

Month

September 2016

A life cycle of words


Born with a meaning and sometimes for no reason at all, words remind me of a journey much like ours.Like a little infant, mewling in it’s mother’s arms, they are born.

With the power to make us chuckle or despair with their foolish callousness.

Carefully crafted and nurtured by many, they stumble, they fall, but start becoming whole, day by day.

Sometimes brilliant, sometimes unsure, but steadily becoming a reflection of a growing mind.

At times they simmer, deep inside, without being delivered, pouring out wordlessly through a tormented teenager’s eyes.

Suddenly they are all grown up, striding confidently into the world, sharing thoughts, opinions, ideologies.

Rendered to sweet nothings whispered into a loved ones ears.

Then cooing and gurgling incoherent tales into tiny ears set outside tiny trusting brown eyes of a miniature you.

They stand by you with resolve, as your admonishments fall on reckless, irreverent, adolescent ears, trying to guide them through their young lives.

There comes a time when slowly, but surely, the words start to fade, replaced by cobwebs, replaced by a second childishness and silver streaks.

A time when you have much to say but no one to say those words to.

The words that will linger and waft through the air, like a faithful legacy, long after you’re gone.

Lights

They shimmer, they twinkle, they dance, they shine.

Riders of a dark world, to being messengers of the divine.

One little flicker can raise a lifetime of hope.

When snuffed out, you feel a paralysis of fear, like you’re hurtling helplessly down an endless slope.

Rows upon rows of illuminated bulbs can welcome a bridegroom atop his royal steed.

While under a flickering street lamp, sits a shrivelled mother telling her shrivelled son a fantastical tale from a tattered book, when that’s all that she can feed.

Many have spoken of seeing a bright speck of light at the end of a tunnel they see.

And some see these sparks even when their eyes are shut, their eyeballs darting around, trapped in a vivid dream.

The morning glint can hurt the eyes, or make them dazzle with delight.

The moonlit sky can light a melancholy in the heart, or build the runway for your imagination to fly.

You can embrace it, feel it, or then simply draw the blinds.

But a tiny tenacious ray will pierce through a crack, and fill your heart with a bright light.

Release me..


I could always tell when you were unwell, even when I was in another city.

I always knew when your heart was broken, you didn’t say much but I heard the tiny cracking sound it made.

I felt your nervousness, every time you were preparing for an exam, whether inside the classroom or outside.

Every time you stumbled, every time you picked yourself up, I danced with delight.

Will you forsake me now, only because you can’t see me?

Can you not feel my misery every time you push that plate of food away?

Don’t you feel my tears mixing with yours as you cry into the night?

Haven’t you heard my silent scream every time you say you cannot go on?

Can’t you hear me struggling to breathe when you shut the world out?

What pains me more than my empty lap is seeing you fight life everyday.

I am gone, but why do want to join me now, is there no other way?

Live my dreams, live my life, live my happiness and sorrows.

If you can’t find happiness inside, learn to steal, learn to borrow.

They say I can’t feel much but I die a thousand deaths seeing you suffer.

Release me my little one, tomorrow is a new day, and then there will be another..

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