Soumya shares his attempts at writing poems, with wit and humour, for Different Truths.

I have been writing for fun since I was in my early teens. School, college, and university magazines published my stuff, helped by the fact that I edited some of them. Ditto various friendly neighbourhood little mags and office publications. Later, illustrious newspapers did it too, and paid me good money!

But one thing I could never do was write poetry. I wanted to of course, but just wouldn’t dare. Limericks I could do at the drop of a pugree, but serious stuff — no way! In fact, serious stuff even in prose was tough, not to write that is, but to show anyone. Poetry was infinitely worse. Rhymes, jingles, ditties, and parodies I did on demand, covering the eccentricities of teachers, professors, bosses, classmates, and colleagues or making them up; and recited them on various occasions. Relatives and friends weren’t spared either.

My aversion to being serious extended to speaking as well, even official speeches, presentations, lectures, and interviews. They turned out to be extremely popular but not necessarily effective.

I secretly wrote serious philosophical stuff and even poetry when my mind had been sufficiently expanded but could not decipher these when reality returned. I may have meant profound things when thus inspired, but they eluded my sober self.

A while ago, I was on our Veranda, alone, with a drink, watching the rain sweep in from the bay, racked by nostalgia, loneliness, and misery, with no one around to observe, thus did not need to use flippancy as a shield, and lines started pushing into my mind; in blank verse too! I firmly pushed them back. It was too embarrassing.

Next day, driving to Pune to deliver a lecture, the Green Ghats in a veil of mist, the pregnant clouds lazily grazing on the curves, drove those lines back into my mind, till I had to let them out or cry, and taking advantage of a rain induced hold up, I poured them out on my laptop.

It was a strange exhilarating feeling. I felt lightheaded. Of course, these would never be looked at again

On the return journey, I had a huge urge to share them with someone who does not know me, with a stranger with a blank face.

I did not bother to read the lines but uploaded these on my blog. It was a most painful miscarriage.

Picture design by Anumita Roy, Different Truths

Soumya Mukherjee

Soumya Mukherjee is an alumnus of St Stephens College and Delhi School of Economics. He earns his daily bread by working for a PSU Insurance company, and lectures for peanuts. His other passions, family, friends, films, travel, food, trekking, wildlife, music, theater, and occasionally, writing. He has been published in many national newspapers of repute. He has published his first novel, Memories, a novella, hopefully, the first of his many books. He blogs as well.

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