There was a susurrus upstairs…


It was the softest ghosts that drove me.
They carried me into town
so I could visit
the Funeral Home Gift Shop.

I weren’t bereaved,
They just have my favorite cokes and
a surprisingly liberal return policy.
The gentleman behind the counter never ends our interactions with, “see you again soon.”
Always just, “Bye… for now.”

It was an awkward ride home.
The softest ghosts still haunt me.

What a love it must have been,
to have blackened the skies in its absence
and to burn through the nothingness that was once my heart.

The love between us was but a moment in time
but has carved itself a piece of eternity.

When I look to the stars,
I know they belong to you,
for the divinity of your eyes has looked upon them.
And so through the stars,
I shall always find you
looking through.

What a love it must have been.
For though you are now gone,
my heart shall always beat for you,
and even when my mortal body is through,
I shall shine through the night skies,
for you.

THOSE PRECIOUS LITTLE THINGS!
Dear friends, our very life and existence being transient and ephemeral, I have learnt to love those little things which provides me pleasure and happiness! Hope you like this short reflective poem. With best wishes, – Raj Nandy, New Delhi, 21 JAN. 2023.


THOSE PRECIOUS LITTLE THINGS!
Little things of life I have learnt to love and
enjoy.
Rays of the radiant sun streaming through
the window of my study;
Along with a glimpse of the radiant blue sky,
Dew drops on a blade of grass shimmering
in the early morning light.
Even a beam of the golden moon is enough,
To make me heave a nostalgic sigh!
Yet for some, enough is never enough,
As they try to cling on to those ducats,
Which slipped through miser Shylock’s
fingers when he died!    (see photo)

Butterflies multi-colored wings,
Parrot feather of emerald green,
The sight of a Gulmohar tree in bloom
ablaze with tinges of yellow and red, -
Are enough, and my day gets made!
And so are those pearly drops of tears
shed from your doe-eyed eyes,
shall suffice,
To bid me farewell on my demise!
                           -Raj Nandy, New Delhi.

Potato milk?
the big thing for this year
or so they say,
well
I'll drink it when it's distilled
and comes from
Vladivostok or Warrington.

the sad thing about this fad is,
some will fall for it and
the coffee bars will reverberate with
calls for it.

think I'll sit this one out

The fly

Mother had gone to work
I, a precautious child, was ill and at home.
By the window I caught a fly
pulled its wings off to see how long it would survive.
It didn´t.
Overcome by guilt I burrowed it in a *** plant.
When mother came home, I told her,
I think I wanted to be punished for my sin
she said nothing.
It is easy to love a new-born lamb or a cute kitten
but all life is here for a reason.
It is unsightly life that tests us as human beings.

But today
I can put that 'goody two shoes 'away
and fry in my own fat,

You see or you don't see that three
is the magic number,

The Trinity

infirmity
eternity
catastrophe,

I'm still drinking my tea
knowing that tomorrow at three
I'll be saved.