Poems ::
Umang

  1. Afraid to Remember

Those that were distinct and vivid, I don’t remember.
And I am afraid to speak about the blurred.
I can begin stories but cannot find a conclusion.
I’m afraid of walking alone.
Would have I liked the crowd?
The cacophony should have turned to music,
Even so, I keep my hand over my ears.
Everything is dangerous.
Running towards me
To feed on my flesh and gulping my blood
As though the ritual had been done.

I don’t remember the warmth of her body.
Her voice, her face which I had felt
A million times, are no longer with me.
And I am afraid to mention her eyes.
Is she the one who lies?
Lying there in the cold.The smell of
Flesh and blood not my own
I don’t remember but her eyes are still with me.

The trees, the roses, the house, I don’t own.
All I have is a shadow. Is it my own?
But it never follows through the day.
Arrives at night and sleeps by my side.
Can I talk about it
I am afraid even during the night.
What I see is lost unto the Horizon, and over the pile of millions of dead,
that still scream of the travesty of reality?
Is she the one among them? I don’t remember
But I hear the other all day. Why not in the dark? I don’t know
It is not her eyes that I am afraid to speak about;

In the midst of the darkness,
I see a light pleading me to speak for them.
That is her, I think I know
But I’m not sure if I can do it.
I’m still afraid to speak about it.

      2. Possession

Someone is yelling at me. He claims
That he owns my love.
You were there at the table eating biscuits.
Only our dog is scared.
He is not by himself. Enabled by history to drag you off.
The ownership he considers to be rightful.

Are you his possession?
Someone else is there. He is old.
What made you to come out?
I am on a leash, bleeding. Don’t look at me.
All I can do is breathe. I want to stop it.
Why do they not move?
The friends and neighbours are all statues.
You are gone now,
Our dog is now licking my wounds.

I have not heard from you.
I can see you at the table.
Someone said that he now possesses you.
Did he truly own you?

But I know how it goes.
I know you want me to say it.
To come and take you
But I am still not unleashed.
There’s another one
Who says that she owns me?
Is it true? Another old man
I do know, says she does.
I am still bleeding,
Do you know How It ends?

Someone screamed that you took a bullet.
Where did you find one?
Can I come to your garden, Your Morgue?
I am a dead man
Why are they still readying the butcher for me.
Give me the bullet, Where is it?
I want the same one inside of me.

    3. Speak to me

Come in my room, dear.
The king size bed, the lamps, the books, the window seeing the river.
The cellarette is half full, still
I am not drunk.
Shooters of wine and vodka are in there, but
I have had the Whiskey
Can you see me; I am on the other side.

Is it going to be the place where we start?
My room is nice; smells good
Why did you stop at the window?
The river’s the same. We have felt it again and again.
Don’t open it. From here it’s not the same.
Don’t you feel the warmth that has engulfed this room?
Is it the time where we take off our clothes?
Here is the part where I want the whole of you.
What scares you?
Hold and my hand and tell me.
We always talked. Why are you silent?
You were shivering. It is not cold.
Is there something trying to get your attention.

You are trying hard to stay in the room.
Please stay, I will look into it.

Where are you?
There’s nothing between us.
Is it a dream?
Will I wake up in the morning?
I know you are gone.
I don’t blame you for being dead.
There’s only one question.
I’ll come to the river each day asking
Why didn’t you speak to me in that room?

•••

Umang has been associated with cultural and literary activities in Patna since a long time. He has a postgraduate degree in English literature and he writes poetry in the English language. he can be reached at umangsinha123@gmail.com

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