I had been to your town
When I only knew you
As someone admired.
Now I know your town
And I know you better
Each bits, I recollect
Even the fragrance
The sound of the tides
The sight of the coconut trees.
I know, it's the mind’s trickery
But it does wonders
Imagining you being there
Your laughter subduing
The sound of tidal waves
Your cascading hair
Veiling the sight of costal trees.
I know, this is far-fetched
These memorable traces
Will soon fizzle in oblivion.
But I love the wonders
I love the very thought
A world filled to its brim
With your scent, smiles and beauty
It gives me the solace I long seek.
Delhi was once Chinglen’s ‘cradle of love’. With his student years over and the love that once comforted his stay has come to a tragic end, he is seized by a strong urge to flee the city. Run as far as he can from the memories of love. As a costly escape is beyond means, he returns to Manipur, a place long marred by protracted violence, a failed revolution, an engineered incessant political chaos, and already neck-deep in corruption. Perhaps to lick his wounds and hide with the beguiled sense. That the distance and the rich bizarre should shield him from the very memories sloshing thick inside him. His attempt to keep himself engaged as well as to make a meagre living lands him a shoddy journalist job and the opportunity to pursue a PhD at the state's only university. In the absence of his laidback editor and opportunistic professor, he teaches himself some degree of creative writing and dabbles in academia. As he moves further into the labyrinth, he learns the hard way that trying...
Comments
Post a Comment