Durdana Bhat
I have an unspecified thing that I don’t see in me. In fact, cypher even can’t. At times, my expressions are downbeat. Lost in those answers, which doesn’t have a query. As I being, the querist and respondent for my own sad fate.
Where is the place in which I’m trapped? That my echo doesn’t even reach to my ears. Where is my portion of light? So that, I can disappear in the darkness possessed by me.
I am edged with mist, here and now. I have lost my shadow; I have been hidden. I revenge myself upon the day and night. I have torn off whole autumn. They have been crippled days, like moths with shrivelled wings unable to fly.
At present my heart screams to understand, why am I? Mixed with an unknown winter. My heart emotion was just fine, but I couldn’t understand why in past I adored winter. The cool tide of darkness breaks its waters over me. Yet again, night opens; night traversed by wandering moths.
My dark cloud has gained in density. My whole world went black, dark. Mind too went empty, saying, “What is lost? What is over?” And over and done with life, I muttered, solacing myself with words. The last words of my sentence tailed me away.
I was not afraid of dark, nor afraid of frozen winter. But I cannot hold up to these dark clouds. The wall of my mind has become blank. I can’t express this darkness that is violent death to me. My biggest destruction is that, I don’t know who I am? I grope blindly.
When will my dark unfurl? When shall I walk on the moor? I am too nervous to end my sentence properly. I shall leave nothing behind me but imperfect phrases littered with sand. I cannot walk out of my dark dream. That is all. I can’t tell you more. I see the hours passing like clouds. I want to disappear as darkness has shut my vision to enquire me. There is no address left. There is enquiry. It is mere an oblivion which is my state now.
So don’t ask me next when Chinars would be under fall. “As why there is no existence left in you.” Maybe those grounded leafs will tell you that I am the part of larger existence now. We all are. It is just, some of us are still, naysayers.
Now, shall I have some respite from free run of these egos. Enough, enough, enough. Stop scanning what is the part of myself. I am no more mundane. Know something, “Once souls liberate frames, then larger realization of self dawns.”
You remember last time, when we discussed that laughing philosopher, Descartes. You sounded like a weird rationalist. But why I am complaining? Don’t I know, you always escape rules.
That wrath of father, when obligation met violation. That scold, that rage and that affection that followed, all that summed up a growing of a rebel in fragile frame.
So, my initial confluence with darkness ended with a query what if I’m sad. In confusion, air was removed from darkness and light and a smile was born.
I have disappeared as darkness has shut my vision to enquire me. Let go my words, I ain’t a poet, even a cypher can’t understand me.
(Driven by creative pursuits, Durdana Bhat is pursuing Bachelors in journalism from Srinagar’s Women College)
