I’ll tell you something committed to my memory
Something known for novelty and humanity
A dirt-free road in the month of June, I remember
The streets of New Delhi and the busy life of
Connaught place inner circle,
And red-green light of traffic signal, I remember…
An old American woman in a blue shawl with a camera in her right hand…
Grinning with glee – she gives a hundred rupee note to a
small innocent beggar
I remember the bunch of beggars she captured in a camera
They followed her till she entered the Madras coffee house
Waving her hands and gesturing ‘goodbye!”
It seemed a familiar scenario
The red signal welcomes the same beggars to beg
I remember; some of them were not more than six-years-old
And two or three children were newly born…
I walked on, silently, down the scorching road, and
How the old man pulled down the window of his car
Flipped one rupee coin, and asked an innocent beggar to depart
I remember I called out to the beggar twice…
She did not hear my first call, then
When I called out to her a second time…
“Do you like chocolate and ice cream?”
I remember her answer, “Anything that makes my stomach happy.”
I took her to a nearby restaurant
And asked the manager to feed her like a queen!
I remember her smiling face…
All I can remember the next day when
I visited the place again
She, Sonam, wearing a muddy frock and begging with an empty plate
I remember I clicked a picture of her from far
Tears began rolling down and I wished to leave…
The silence of the road being more dangerous than
the silence of war
That’s all I can remember!
That’s all I want to remember!
In Naked Silence, Naked Reality!
My heart sobs every time I see him struggle
In the middle-of-the-road he slows down …
His soul rebels against the cycle of life
Destiny has again embarked upon time!
He looks back
To his past…memories, affection, wickedness
Deeds and perfection!
The work he has done
Sometimes brought a glimpse of joy
Or there was deep sorrow which mocked the state of happiness…
And vanished after saying– goodbye!
He fights back standing on his knee
Chuckling and admiring the path of glory
His history drags him to life again
This time he wakes up …
Since ages he had lain in his grave
His soul weeps in this moment of time
Each second makes him remember
He could have lived more
If he hadn’t cheated on values, morals
The dear ones he was meant to support.
He howls like an infant
He looks back
To where there is no path, no glory
Trees are lamenting the separation of leaves
Bricks have turned black
Human shadows have gone insane
Some animals are seen making loving to each other in the garden
Loved ones are not to be found…
All looked chaotic while he was there…
The time has won the award of “Past Life”
In naked silence, naked reality!
My heart sobs every time I remember his past
In the middle-of-the-road, he was gifted to a grave
His soul rebelled against the cycle of life
As always, destiny has embarked upon time!
Even that whore
Wanted to move on
As soon as she made an attempt to flee away,
She saw a bunch of people looking at her with stones in hand, and condoms at the edge of their lustful lips!
She lost a lot
Sold out everything
Turned into a blockbuster
But couldn’t cut the chocolate cake…
She desperately wanted
To move on…
For a higher salary
Among those who know!
A few hours later,
Another God disguised as customer Bolted the wooden door from inside With a fresh smile and wrinkled face!
She realized in next five minutes
That she can only move up and down…
Nitin Soni Known as ‘The Curly Poet’ and honoured with the title of ‘Most Popular’ at Delhi University where he studied English literature, Nitin Soni is a poet, storyteller, script writer & social activist whose writings have appeared in many national and international publications. The Broken Boat, his maiden poetry book, reached the number 1 position on Amazon India within a few weeks of its release. Nitin lives in New Delhi, and he can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.