Emotions are extended upto being grandeur,
Abbreviations have no place in my heart.
Maa Durga appears completely different this year,
A little worried, a little pale & dimmed
As Corona has swiped away lives like a tornado.
Her eyes carry the pain of throttled desires for a daily wager,
She let her tears down for those who lost the access of food, shelter & basic amenities.
Maa durga has drastically been changed,
The blank roads in puja days speak volumes,
The home which many found in the brightening lights of puja pandals
Are entirely emancipated from their very ground.
People are jeopardized for the way fear has grabbed the core of their souls.
Food stalls, a disheartening scenario of emptiness,
Blank chairs in pandal missing the trendy addas of youth
& Maa whispering the words of healing, the words of love, the words of resilience,
the words of compassion & the words of betterment.
My mouth craves for the scrumptious 'Phuchka' s and flavoursome cushions.
Maa, draped in red saree and her elegant three-eyed sculpture still articulate the verses of triumphant tomorrow.
Corona, the malignant cancerous enemy, disguised as the 'Asura' of the society
Squeezing the entire mankind
& reproducing the seeds of ominous demons sluggishly.
Tomorrow knows no certainty,
Whether we live or we get blurred away Like a hand slipping the last particles of sand in a voidy seashore.
A valiant heart has never learnt to be defeated,
To be lost in the crowd of poisoned waste,
& to be carried away with the turmoil of exertion.
An ironic situation we are living in,
Finding the rejuvenation in the aromatic scent of 'Shiuli' flower,
Cramming our feelings in the evergreen laughters of Catkins, playing 'hide & seek' by the familiar roadside.
I wonder if Rabindranath has ever imagined the divinity of Durga in this very way!
A virus, tinier than a dust particle transformed the emotions with utmost extremity.
Bengalis & Bangla would never forget this very new 'Durga Pujo',
A sad & sarcastic finishing touch,
A never-ending desire of welcoming 'Maa' in the same old manner just the way a old school romantic lover offers a rose to his poetic beloved
& a dramatic craze of nothingness.
Still the phenomena of "Rupang Dehi, Jayam Dehi, Yasho Dehi, Disho Jahi" would never fade away,
And come back everytime with the hopes of reincarnation,
A reincarnation of heart's fulfillment, exhilaration & healthy environment.
Let's pray as the 'sindoor' of 'Dashami'
Flies away everywhere to nurse the dilapidated nature
& wholesome love blossoms as fresh 'Shiuli's for the next infinite years.
~ ©storytellersuchismita
Author's Biography :
Suchismita Ghoshal from Malda, West Bengal is an internationally acclaimed poet, professional writer, scribbler, published author, professional book critic, storyteller, columnist, former copy-editor at NotionPress Publishing, content writer, creative writing professional, nature lover and a change agent & former Worldwide Ambassadors' Coordinator for Global Youth Leaders Network. She is now a registered member of Global Youth Network. She cherishes her partnership with various publication houses of India & abroad. She enjoying working as a manager at Pen Brew Publishers. Suchismita also aims to heal people with the majesty of her words. She is an environmental activist too who brought reality to her dream as her debut book named "Fields of Sonnet ''. Her recent releases are " Poetries in Quarantine" and "Emotions & Tantrums". She can be contacted through her,
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