The Unadorned

My literary blog to keep track of my creative mood swings with poems n short stories, book reviews n humorous prose, travelogues n photography, reflections n translations, both in English n Hindi.

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I'm a peace-loving married Indian male on the right side of '50 with college-going children, and presently employed under government. Educationally I've a master's degree in History, and another in Computer Application. Besides, I've a post graduate diploma in Management. My published works are:- (1)"In Harness", ISBN 81-8157-183-5, a poetry collections and (2) "The Remix of Orchid", ISBN 978-81-7525-729-0, a short story collections with a foreword by Mr. Ruskin Bond, (3) "Virasat", ISBN 978-81-7525-982-9, again a short story collection but in Hindi, (4) "Ek Saal Baad," ISBN 978-81-906496-8-1, my second Story Collection in Hindi.

Sunday, September 20, 2015

The Door is Ajar



============
The door is ajar
Whetting my urge
To peep inside, or
To slam it shut for good
And lament for a lifetime.

I can imagine what’s there inside
A fragrance that I’d ever relish
Redolent of many things:
A wild rose atop an unreachable rock,
An incense stick that bookmarks
The passion of an old episode,
A picture postcard that vividly reflects
My muse, igniting my private dreams,
My heart’s image
Reflected on those willing objects
And many things
To make the moment wistful
And to turn my life worth living.

But then I can’t open it either—
The door is only ajar
And I oughtn’t to go that far
From the passive to the active
Pushing the door a little further
Here, in the midst of environs hostile
 Where is honour for the vibes?
With this world so very cruel
And so insanely intrusive
With rules that rule the meek and mild
And those ever-watching eyes wide open
To grab me off guard and red handed.
Vilified I’d be: a plagiarist, a trespasser
The sinful, a transgressor of the first order.
But then again, how can I?
Desist from reaching this nook inviting?

The door is ajar yet
A ray of subdued light
Escapes at this moment unguarded
Wafts across to me aroma the wistful
The lilt of a lonely song meant for me
Now, look yonder
The image of my own adorable muse
Ready to morph into me
A slot is reserved, path carpeted
Everything is inside, the moment inviting.

Thus far...
I have been treating myself
A rank passer-by
Sparing little thought for it
Bringing myself to belief
It’s just another nothing
A bubble is born to burst
Taking its own time
But now...
The door is ajar and the destination clear
What I dream is a part of me.
Here’s a chance to connect to my soul
Aha! A chance of a lifetime
Through this open door
And along this path of dream.
I just can’t be cruel to me.
------------------------
By
A. N. Nanda
Teivandrum
20-09-2015
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4 Comments:

Blogger Vilas Ingale said...

Sir,
Very nice.
From Vilas Ingale,
General Secretary
IP ASP Association

3:43 AM  
Blogger Anant Nanda said...

Thank you Ingale ji. You're always welcome.

6:42 PM  
Anonymous Rajeshwari Gautam said...

Respected Sir, The poem is indeed a masterpiece. I really liked this poem.As always, this poem is also written beautifully doing full justice to feelings as well as language. ! With regards, Sir.

8:21 AM  
Blogger Anant Nanda said...

Thank you, Rajeshwari ji. Your encouragement counts, assures me that something meaningful has actually emerged.

10:13 AM  

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