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Writer's pictureYogesh Chandra

‘That Soul’- A Poem about Papa


As the months pass by, I seem to be confronted with thoughts, those that remind me of papa. The brief curtains inside my room, the unopened books and the childish crayons floating beside me, they wait for me to scream. But what of this appalled feeling, one that has been glued to my mind like the ends of a synapse, waiting impatiently for the next memory to give clouds of happiness.


Papa left me such early, and I still miss him so much, and as the days continue to bring me back to winter- the day which has me confined to a cube, one that changed my life forever- I sit here and wonder, is anything real? The metallic voice over the radio, and the band singing such emotionally, I can feel the lyrics such plainly, as if papa were right beside me.


So as misery turns into a beautiful poison, and I, a human who never sought satisfaction, let me write, and all that I can. For each imagination is like that day with papa, and we were walking such happily, we had forgotten that the world existed. I wish I could feel that again.

I miss you so much papa!

That Soul

Crowds gathered like never before

My mind was still in absenteeism, what is happening around me?

In the midst of the manic’s, I stared at those hydrodynamics

Its biological basis seems to be astonishingly acquainted to my mind

I stood as my vision starred into an unfamiliar fabric

On my left was a disk, which read most of our memorable days

I quickly recalled the days, when only the two of us inhabited the lonely lands

The days when the two of us walked for nothing but wishes for the trees

It was such spectacular, we had forgotten that people too existed

Intense levels of hysteria collided in single seconds, we were left unattended

Their voices walked like the apparition already known to the mind

Increased flows of reflective letters rewrote each other, ink had vanished when I approached

At first, the laws of grammar did not projectile at all

Perhaps it spoke in little codes, I decisively thought as I tried to cut off my wings

Innocent brothers unaware of all that had happened, did I know at that time?

“Perhaps I should tell them now”

Grandpa stared at his lifeless body

A tear accompanied series of relenting rings of liquid

Mother’s voice echoing through my heart, I say in silence, “Is he really gone?”

Grandma’s voice gave new flows of unpleasant air to my pasted lungs

Everyone and I were visible but dear him, he wants to take a little rest now

My hands holding my hands to give me a little comfort

My eyes producing sweet and sour juices, I do not know what to say

The clothes I wore was covered with a liter of mud, care to pour more in

His body gave a sophisticated perfume that day, I will never forget

At a distance, he stood up and came rushing towards me, thoughts?

The cries kept on getting quieter

I sat in disbelief, “Papa, you cannot leave me at such tender age”

-Yogesh Chandra

Image Courtesy: https://pixabay.com/en/dad-father-child-kid-family-2618982/

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