I wonder with a hazy mind,
About how color can come back to life,
To infiltrate the gray scale melodrama-
Without overdramatic effect
As if edited by a looser mathematician
Having lost his rainbow shade
Of youth, in vein wit,
Now crawling for snatching from us
What he didn’t get……
His green creeper died, then water
Was necessary to be added-
But could manage as well,
Not to be a strawberry one over green land,
Instead, a cactus on sandy soil-
Now it doesn’t
Open its mouth for tropical rain-
Why should it?
It has forgotten the longing for rain
Which was its shadow at gangetic plain-
It’s a life now but devoid of life
Its standing now ….but,
Not under self whim,
Under the fancy of this mathematician
Veiled in dictatorial theme,
Made nazi of his own youth-
How could he save his gray cacti
From future drought-
Drought of vigor,
Drought of green-
Turning yesterdays berry
Into spine of steel.
But like this dupe I wont
Let my hue to fly to so far a galaxy,
Anchoring to some vague excuses
Of daily business porcupines,
Slaughtering tiniest scope of ecstasy
Which were not created by creator
But I, thinking myself
Higher to mediator,
Possessing lethal mind,
Suppressing His gifted youth and
Willingly craving to be terminator,
Like a virus
Passing this pessimistic psyche
Among my race and upcoming generation,
Negating their development,
Guiding to a spiral bypass-
When destination is the centre
Why to orbit…………?
Why wont they…? they need
In their life color a bit.
Meantime I consume their energy
Misguiding them, and taking pleasure of
What should not have been unknowingly-
And me keep composing verse in elation
Until they reach the centre and sob-
Now they have also drowned to the
Same black spot where color is a dream-
No way to revert…all path have collapsed
Having lost their youth regret is at brim.
Now I can be astrologer and predict
What route would they follow and
What will be their verdict.
They would resolve to guide others
To save them, and teach them
Forbidding them to turn color hunter-
But alas, what they will speak
Will seem thesis of old,
A wall to repaint……
Rather a roof with a million leak-
How can they cohabit,
They need a rainbow to ride,
After all they are new color hunters,
They have billion fantasies to rear-
In the course, which black body
They are stepping to
I wont be there to care.
Feeling guilty for having thought
That mathematician a dull,
An agent against life-
Today I know the truth,
I know it all.
No scope to articulate it to
These present day dreamers-
No chance to apologies
To my guided all spiral spinners.
No hope left for me but only
To look back for what good I’ve done.
Meanwhile little aspirations condensing
Of what color after life I’ll get in turn.
This time I’ll keep a record of
What I expected and what I’ve got-
And make a survey of my fore walkers
To make my end of the day a little less tough.
Me still not aware of what is
Color of life and where has it been lost…..
No more would I think of this color-
Surely it’s a new illusive dust.
Oh !I’m in ecstasy once again
I’ve got this realization at last !