With the dawn permeating on the limpid
azure and our salutations returned with
few more beams of sunlight
The perpetual fulcrum of morning's delight,
the archaic decrepit Radio parked on the
topmost shelf of the wardrobe.
Persistently in his austere demeanour my
father with his oblong eyewear reposed
on the lower part of his nose bridge swirls
the convex switch to and fro.
An immutable clamorous hullabaloo to others
But, the noise is music to his ears, he repostes
its vigour that radiates even after decades.
When summers aren't amber with sunshines
And the ether in winters is crystal clear
like flutes of Champagne,
With the contemporary scooter placed
in the side of the backyard.
He kickstarts the passé , shabby vespa
to a point of ad nauseam ,
The mere purpose to keep it alive.
Since, thousand memories were binded
in its wheels, the first salary of an
aspired job, birthing it.
On some tranquil, sombre evenings,
when even the streets doesn't diffuse a
concoction of laughters and murmurs,
The black holes of my father's heart that
spawn thousand perils like half eaten
crayons of a child, then replenish
itself with his hands slowly opening the Old,
rickety chifforobe, that mom and dad
purchased shortly after their marriage
Exquisite souvenirs of my mother,
few mekhela chadars and dainty
ornaments treasured carefully in a shelf,
unfurling a smile across his face.
Life is a barren field frozen with snow
where Love and Attachment is a
growing garland that permeates light
in the sea of its darkness.