বিদায়

Farewell

Do you hear
the rumblings of the wheels of time
It’s chariot disappearing in a flash
Arousing vibration of heartbeats
in the vast ether
Heartbroken sobs of stars
glistening in trampled darkness

My friend
That fleeting time
Embraces me, weaving it’s web --
Lifts me to that speeding chariot
En route the dare-devil journey
Far, far away from you

I feel, a thousand deaths
Faced have I to come here
At this new dawn’s summit –
The chariot’s restless pace
Sets aflutter in breeze
My name of yore

No means of turning back
From afar if you see
Recognise me not will you
My friend, fare well.

Some day, in respite from work
In fullness of leisure
With soft spring breeze
On a night when deep sighs
Float forth from shores of past
Wails of withered Bakul flowers
Piercing the skies
In that moment search and see
Some of me is left behind
In the margins of your life.
In oblivion of dusk
It may hold some light
It may, in nameless dreams, take form.

Yet a dream it is not
My truth above all it is,
Death-defying
It is my love.
That I have left behind
Unchanging homage in your name
I float on with the flow of change
With the journey of time
My friend, fare well.

Loss it is not for you
Merely mortal my clay
With it an idol immortal
If created have you
Worshipped be it in eventide
That play of devotion
Hindered will it not be
Tarnished not by my daily touch
Not one flower detached from
Salver of floral offering

Festive spread of your mind
That you garnish with care
With sweet juice of emotion
To quench desire of expression
Adulterate it not will I
With my riches that are just dust
With that which is moist with my tears

Even today you may
Design your creation
With words woven in dreams
Of just a memory of me
Weighed not down nor
Moored to obligation
My friend, fare well.

Grieve not for me
I have my work
I have this whole wide world
My vessel, empty it is not
Make whole each void
This vow I take forever.

If there be one who is
For me anxiously awaiting
That very one will fulfil me
Who brings a tuberose stalk
In time of the waxing moon
To decorate salver of sacrifice
In night of the waning moon
Who sees me as I am
Virtues and vices all
With boundless forgiveness
In worship of the one
Now I wish to give up myself.

What I have given you
Your right to that remains endless
An iota it is
That I give here and now
Pitiable moments
That sip in mere fistfuls
From this heart of mine
It’s hands folded in prayer

What I have given you
Was your own gift to me
More you accepted
More indebted you made me
My friend, fare well