‘Loserville’

Lost I am in the dark, slimy woods of ‘Loserville’…
Wandering aimlessly, slipping, tripping…
I grope around and I grasp a viper
No beam of hope reach this horrid underground.

This is my ‘Loserville’ and I grope around…

I didn’t heed the wise words of friends
Now I am caged in this globe of thorny fence
Leeches, bugs, scorpians all around
Its hopelessness, fear, despair is all I’ve found

This is my ‘Loserville’ and I grope around…

I have wounds rotting
And puss oozing…
Even the pain doesn’t hurt me
I’ve gone numb
I can’t even see my sears
M not blind, but darkness prevail and I m bound

This is my ‘Loserville’ and I grope around…

My death is near,
Lurking somewhere
But the road to it
Is worse than death itself…

And I struggle in my ‘Loserville’ as I wait and grope around…

©Manashi Pathak

Embers

Embers


The sultry evenings are left in yore
Feeling the cool breeze and hoping for more

Warming up by the first bonfire
I listen to the words of the lovely zephyr
It talks to me in hushes n claps
It comes and caresses me
Making me comfy and fresh
And makes me yearn for some warmth
Yearn for that coziness of the woolen on a freezing morn

Looking into the embers
Amidst cacophony, its peace I find
The steady glow of smouldering cinder
Gives direction to my cluttered mind…

I delve into the warm thoughts of tomorrow
Awaiting cozier days to come
Forgetting every scorching day of the past
Am filled with hope and miseries none…

As the dying cinder beacons
And I breathe life into the fire…
Emerging from the eclipse of the ashes, so flaky and gray
I see the golden exuberance of the ember

And I resolve to never let die the ember of my life
Never will I forget to fan out the ashes …….

©Manashi Pathak

The Final Episode

The Final Episode


What’s the scheme of things?
Is what I ask when I look back
Look back; look back to the underground…
Into the grave, into the epitaph that’s blank
Words won’t fit in, don’t qualify

Reasons fail me when I look back
Look back; look back to the day our tracks crossed…
Running over, no wonder
Catastrophe lay ahead
To leave me shattered, numb…
I bleed, cry dry tears…
For things gone wrong, hellish years…

Too much, too much chaos, noise to carry on…
Shut the door, voice & move on…

The haunting questions still roam my valley
I exorcise with a silver cross and water holy…
I tame it; throw away to distant universe…
But it gives no promise to never return…

Doubts to be cleared, smog all around
With no folly of mine, with explanations unsound…
I am convicted with no crime…
I’m a framed victim, a criminal to the end of time…


©Manashi Pathak

M Fyn!

M Fyn! (9th nov. 2007)


“Everybody says “m fyn”
n I wonder why is it not ‘fine’?
why is it so fast an answer?
what does fine mean to him?
Is everyone really fine?
How can anyone be fine
When for self he lacks time?
Why do we say we r fyn?
Jz to sound kool?
Jz to sound happy?
Why do we pretend?
Are we insecure?
Or are we so sad…
So broken that we can’t face reality?
And escape it n say “m fyn”.

Hw u doin?
“M good”
How good are we?
Jz following a routine…
Makin ends meet
Like all inanimate objects
Lacking passion, enthu…
N boy…ya… “m good”
So satisfied being mundane…
Don’t we have regrets?
Unattended wishes…
Hushed desires…
To do things..jz for the sake of doing…
N not cz u really love to do it…

How many of us…have really listened…
To voices…to the voice of things we really love to do
Things we’ll never get tired of…
Things doing which we’ll never wanna return n hit the bed…

Questions, questions…always hover, shout out loud…
And answers…..
Hehe…well thts another ballgame…
Jz lets enjoy the questions…
Cz goddamn we never listened to our passions…
Let alone these mundane questions…

Gnite, tc, cya.”

©Manashi Pathak