by Subhashis Das
the storm blows
with the rage of an untamed mighty bull.
i hide beneath an old mango tree
which shakes reluctantly
as all her branches shriek.
right now,
i stand soaking under this tree...
i have no other place to shelter.
all fears of the aftermath of the wetness,
the fall of lightning on the tree
or
a branch suddenly breaking down on me
has ended; abruptly...
...and then, i lose myself.
here i stand, drenched
without a name and a haunting past.
i have no future,
who am i, then?
i am forgotten by me.
this moment seems compete.
my life lived fully,
i have no where to go, nothing to do
save laugh louder, even louder
and experience Bliss.
(This poem is an experience on a stormy rainy afternoon during a trek from Khunti to Ranchi on 27.5.2004)
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