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Why Memories Haunt Us in Life’s Unyielding Coherence

The past vanishes like the morning dew,
And eyes get wet
For memories that feel good.
The sorrows and the joy,
Out of the infinite domain of light and shade,
Illuminate one's short sojourn
Under an unyielding firmness
In a cold coherence.

The mourners in their turn
Mourn adequately,
Confirming their bolted sympathy.
Life slips into a saddened graveyard,
Wherefrom it murmurs
In a strange melancholy.

The grave synchronises
The poor and the rich, the saint and the devil,
Irrespective of their caste, colour, creed,
Or will.
A salient trial of a kin to attain immortality
In and out of the haunted graveyard
Plunges impulses into the descendants
To come out of algophobia
And live life peacefully in this mortal world.

Picture design by Anumita Roy

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