Author Archives: Sushil Kansal

After Death

The matter that is the body
will just change its form

So says the scientist

The loved ones
will miss you badly

So says the world

The world even without you
will go on as usual

So says the philosopher

‘I’ shall no more be
for anyone to touch, see or feel

true!

But the hopes, the aspirations, the dreams
the desires, the anguish, the disturbances
that travelled with me to my grave
will continue to survive
in another sensitive zone-of-consciousness
whom the physical world
will only perceive as a physical being
just as it perceived me.

Metaphors for Love

A shining dew-drop on a rose petal…
The first ray of the morning sun…
A beautiful woman after her morning bath…
The smell of earth after rain in summer…
The taste of tears of happiness…
The smile on a child’s face in sleep…
A crisp dollar bill among pennies in a beggar’s bowl…
That extra cherry on your ice-cream…

Love happens anytime, anywhere.

Plight

For a few handful who create
There are thousands who could
If only
Their bellies were full.
So
Many a times
When I sit down to write
(on my PC)
Scores of faces stare at me from the monitor…
The beggar boy who has lost his arm
The sweeper who hopes for a sweater this winter
My car cleaner whose wife is in the hospital…
And my hands just freeze on the keyboard.

Unsung Poets

For a few handful who create
There are thousands who could
If only
Their bellies were full.
So
Many a times
When I sit down to write
(on my PC)
Scores of faces stare at me from the monitor…
The beggar boy who has lost his arm
The sweeper who hopes for a sweater this winter
My car cleaner whose wife is in the hospital…
And my hands just freeze on the keyboard.

The Murder of a Feeling

Despite the ban
On sex determination tests,
The radiologist consented,
And opened the door to the inner chamber.

Feeling the bulge with the sensor,
His eyes intent on the monitor,
His mind counting crisp currency notes,
He deciphered the sex of the unborn child.

Nonchalantly the gynecologist did her job,
The nurse forwarded the towel after it was all over,
A couple of antibiotics and a pain-killer were prescribed,
The husband merely said: ‘You need a day’s rest.’

Twenty-four hours later,
She was back in the kitchen,
Cooking the family meal,
While he managed routine office-files.

The tender feelings of the unborn girl child,
The maternal feelings of the hapless mother,
Splattered in blood in a kidney tray
Were thrown into the garbage.

Indeed, God is in his heaven
And all is right with this male chauvinistic world!

Fossilization

Rowing a small and feathery boat of words,
I managed to touch your heart.
You smiled, held out your hand,
And together we traveled into an unknown land,
Discovering and rediscovering ourselves,
The boat of words being our sole guiding star.

We could almost touch and feel the words the other spoke.

Then the language of eyes took over,
And words became irrelevant.
Each feeling,
Love, togetherness, caring and sharing,
Was conveyed by this magic messenger pair.

We could actually feel the warmth of the language of the eyes.

But the feeling of ecstasy came,
When we were able to feel and sense,
Each and every emotion,
Without even talking or looking at each other.

I then understood and felt what a feeling was!

Now, imprisoned in my own cocoon,
Separated from you by time and space,
I wonder,
What it was that fossilized your feelings for me?

There are Times…

There are times
When a stranger feels closer than a friend
When logic dies its own death
And intuition takes over…

There are times
When a moment weighs heavier than all eternity
When a split second brings ecstacy
And sorrows suddenly melt

Although such times are rare and ephemeral

But
Still
There are such times.