By Parag Mallik
E mergencies dissolved into pastel goodbye
kisses for families planted with mourning.
N atural nicotine liquefied over our journals
held between fortune-free, shaking palms.
D eficiencies of time are lost into the loving
words falling from our lips, words we always
meant to say.
O bvious traces of fear vanished, scattering
reluctantly into the dust of forgiveness.
F or the broken dreams that now lie in deserts,
dreading the advent of darkness, no tears
of regret are left to flow.
T houghts never bubbled to us that this train to
nowhere, was the last we have boarded.
H ollow hopes hit us in terror, trembling knees
and sealed lips come together at twilight.
E arly morning we could’ve loaded our best tea
and honey, sweetest oranges, and grandma’s
muffins in pretty silver foils but now it’s late.
W ilting faces wish to have seen and believed
apocalyptic visions, woven in newsprint,
O ver the weather forecasts, in colored comics,
overlooked as we drowned in cold ambitions.
R ags of selfishness dressed our souls which
change hues to repentance leaving us bleak
like orphans, no futures to draw over palms
L ittle birds have gone numb into silence as the
skies have begun to fold over the harsh rains
over shelters we’ve broken through aeons.
D awn gulps away dimmest of lights, gobbling
the streets to leave lifeless, empty avenues
slowly, as the last train whistle blows.
Letter from Suicide to You
A home I’ve made along the strands of the rope,
B reaths coiled in my loops under the dark bed,
C rying aloud at the edge of the knife among the apples,
D iving slowly in depths of the bottle of sleeping pills,
E choing over the muddy stones on the cliff,
F orever hidden beneath the pebbles along a rail track,
G rowing louder between sand specks on the river bank,
H oping to fulfill my greed for depression,
I nstincts feeding over a broken heart or failure,
J ust satisfied with pressures hauled on shoulders breaking your knees,
K icking you in the chest with feet of dejection and pessimism,
L ovingly looping around your neck with
M alice mangling every will to survive,
N ever able to cross the flames of happiness,
O pening welcoming arms for you at the table,
P epper and gloom sprinkled to gobble you up.
Q uestions I create to hang in corners of your brain causing
R easoning to fade away along with your joy.
S tings of my seasoning sinking into your ribs,
T ears gushing in oceans from your eyes,
U nder the mask I make you wear –
V elvety on the outside, thorns within.
W aiting eagerly in your flesh for
X erarch veins in your palms to make
Y ou lose your body to me and
Z ip up the pain right into the blood.
Thank You, Dear.
She will envelope her palms, dense
prayers trapped within, before her
divine imagery of God, begging to
fill the cups built of her fingers with
time up to the brim so she can serve
her little home and her labour from 9
to 5, toiling to read through the pages
of his untidy cursive and yet have
solitary air to breathe.
She folds the fabric of her dress into
deep creases and grooves, begging
for vivacity – enough to bring home
the few notes that fly away into her
bills and to the stores, fetching
muffins of joy, he desires, and to
segment her thoughts into little chunks
of comfort for her tiny tot.
She bows really low, curving the back
of her neck, begging for a few drops
of faith that may fuel her single arms
to wipe away all the tears, to embrace
her little universe in a loving hug, and
to knit promises she can wrap around
her home because even when alone,
Parag Mallik is a student pursuing a career in Medicine. When free from academics, he enjoys writing and maintaining his blog, where he uses his abstract imagination over issues in the form of poetry to paint his idea of emotions and equality. He holds a strong opinion against violence in any form. He also has a knack for music, books, and comedy.
Cafe Dissensus Everyday is the blog of Cafe Dissensus magazine, based in New York City, USA. All materials on the site are protected under Creative Commons License.
Read the latest issue of Cafe Dissensus Magazine on ‘Punjab: Marginal and Central’, edited by Karthik Venkatesh, author and editor, Bangalore, India.