Life In Cycles

Starting in the wee hours of the reluctant dawn,
When a streak of white light fights all night with the engulfing dark, I begin my tryst with life on a worn out bicycle,
Weaving through sun and rain,
Through hope and trial,
Through dilapidated offices and edifices of prodigality,
I flung a rolled newspaper with immaculate trajectory and unending routine,
While you sip your green tea, basking in the warmth of December sunshine,
Feasting on events of a decadent world,
I pedal my way through denizens to doors new.
You gorge on page-3’s shimmer & shine,
I ruminate endlessly on bread and a dime!
I am the Newspaper Waalah!
It’s the City of Joy, they say!
I stoop and stare,
At swarming faces riddled with losses and pain, all gray;
Like soulless charade of life played day in day out,
I halt for a sip of tea at the dingy tea-stall,
Nondescript faces chattering and leering,
A cuss word or two, a Salaam and a Namaste!
Its 8:00 AM, I need to hurry.
Guileless city, its charms are many,
Like an ageless paramour, it beckons coquettishly in all seasons!
Cycling my way,
I fondly reminisce, days of yore,
Of my lush green fields and a life bucolic,
The gathering at the village, the fair and sale,
Deathly images of unending draught,
Of scorching summer and a season of trial,
Of God’s fury and tale of fate.
Bidding goodbye to bolted doors,
With shimmering eyes and jittery spirits,
An irreversible decision made,
Into the concrete jungle with heavy feet we tread,
Woe to me, for I thought the grass, was greener on the other side!

 

The dress is jaded, threads of gold and purple in hue,
I fish my pockets, a soiled bundle of notes,
Saved since months, I buy her a promised gift,
All for the smile of the little cherubic face, all of 13,
My morsel of solace, a reason for living!
The sun is receding,
I retrace my path to a hamlet unknown,
There’s my nest, a picture of misery,
A tale in augury!
There she is, a motherless child,
Sitting by the lamp, engrossed in study,
She talks of latitude and longitudes,
Of places unseen and dreams beaming,
Promising me to take on places,
When I reach the twilight of life,
A surreptitious glance, and a luminescent smile,
She runs to me with alacrity,
Nimble fingers reach for my hands.
She clings to me,
I sing to her,
Songs of hope and happiness,
Trickling through eyes,
Tears of joy soak my parched weather-beaten skin,
Outside the mercy of Lord falls gently,
Pitter-patter of evening rain,
On the patch of grass,
Rendering it green again….!

 

~Shaharyaar  | Edited By Ghazal

 

 


Image Courtesy: www.pixabay.com



 

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