by Zara Rai

 

I .

Millions of us here
Like bustling fireflies,
There’s a song in all of us
where the words meet the pain

Like bustling fireflies,
There’s a song in all of us
where words meet the pain
departing to the end of time.

There’s a song in all of us
where words meet the pain,
departing to the end of time,
where the sky is big and moony and

where words meet the pain
departing to the end of time,
where the sky is big and moony and
where songs could be held.

Departing to the end of time
Like bustling fireflies
where words meet the pain
there’s a song in all of us.

II.

Dy nam ite, it hits me like a fucking dynamite.
Push to insanity,
There’s no peace, not here, not there, not anywhere.
Look, where do I go.
“Counter number 5 for all your questions and queries.”
Look, what do I do.
“Hello, how may I assist you?”
This clusterfuck of a world
where so much is so wrong
there’s very little space for me
here
where a no to every thing done wrong
gets you a noose, blessing in disguise.
“Counter number 7 for all your complaints. Have a great day!”
In this endless circle of chaos and confusion,
there’s a field out there,
waiting for me,
a forest, a mountain, the sea, the sand,
waiting for me to find their secrets,
hidden carefully underneath by Lovers, Friends, No Ones, Some Ones, Any Ones.
Pour them out onto the earth:
there’s no need for secrets any more.

there’s a distant voice calling me, saying my name, And the wind, she takes it with her,
brings my name to me.
I know this voice, I know it so well that
do I even know it at all?
There’s a flame set ablaze somewhere far away from here.
It feels close, it feels right here,
it feels like home, but it’s far away,
like a star in the sky.
There’s a hurricane, a wild dance of Life. She leaves me untouched.
There’s a summer rain who reminds me of my mother
and my favourite words and favourite colours and
a happy place that’s been set in stone for ever.
There’s a field out there,
still waiting for me.

A flower
dancing with the wind like there’s no tomorrow,
calling her sister, who comes running straight from the sky,
and together,
they are free.

 


Poems by Zara Rai, Art by Mavni

Mukta Ranade a.k.a. Mavni is a goofball of curls who speaks about Murakami as if she is having a love affair with his writing. She gets amused and amazed by the mother of wonders that is philosophy and loves telling anecdotes that climax too soon.

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