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Bhaskar Thakuria Bhaskar Thakuria
Recommendations: 3

MODES OF SELF-EXPRESSION: TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN


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Hark and look, brother, at the cult of the angels
That presents thee with such endless charms.
To revel in their midst and to flow in their drift
Would of course be the crown in thy glory.
Mount that jutting precipice and cast thine
Eyes on that ever widening horizon.
You see there the faraway lands
And seashores that preach fealty to the holy cult.



The season would never be unjust for thee
As it whirls out its magic carpet
To allow us the thrill of its bountiful lands
Brimming with the beauties and blessngs of the Almighty.
And so, brother, it would not be long
Before you seek the presence of one
In all the colours and radiance of his saintly garb,
And lay your life down to the singing of his glories.



But hark nearer brother, bend nearer and see
For yourselves the elements in a mutinous tirade.
Thou seest now brother, the sky in all its leaden pallor
As the first harsh downpours of spring tear the heavens asunder.
And as the carpet of dawn unfurls before you
Stark in all its naked grimness, there lies the sight to behold
Of the virgin earth bespattered with miriad miniature showers---
Pools of darkness signalling the blackest of human treasons.



Hark ye now, for the fallen one---that spurner
Of the legacy of the white-robed priests
For whose fatal excommunication is this day reserved.
See now those long pillars of grey standing tall and solemn
Amidst the reddish glow of their fraternal wrath, for the
Land of order and tranquility is now thrown into rampant discord;
And yet it is a strange sight to behold the legacy of
The highest virtues being disrupted by instincts common and mundane.


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