Saturday, March 28, 2020

Locked Suitcase

Locked Suitcase, carried close to his heart,
Clenched like an infant, it meant the world to him,
Little did he know his muffled walk had ceased,
With each step closing in, the euphonic sound matured,
Turning around, he saw a young woman, playing a violin,
Albeit he wanted to leave, he centred himself on the bench.

The young violinist engraved in her music, paused,
He said, "Young blood, play me a memory",
Soon, the sound entrances everybody around,
Taken back to his world of silver, captivated,
Opened Suitcase, read letters, vintaged polaroids,
His search was over, the memories found him themselves.



This small poem is about an old man who is wandering with a Locked Suitcase clenched close to his heart. He comes across a young woman who plays him a beautiful melody which invokes his memories and reminds him the key to open those trapped memories in the suitcase.

2 comments:

  1. As I read your poems and it reminds me of all the tough decisions I made, all the good and the bad down the memory lane.

    Keep writing, keep growing.

    ReplyDelete
  2. बंद सूटकेस, अपने दिल के करीब ले गया,
    एक शिशु की तरह जकड़ी हुई, उसका मतलब था दुनिया उसे
    वह जानता था कि उसका घूमना फिरना बंद हो गया है,
    प्रत्येक चरण में बंद होने के साथ, व्यंजित ध्वनि परिपक्व होती है,
    मुड़कर उसने एक युवती को देखा, जो वायलिन बजा रही थी,
    यद्यपि वह छोड़ना चाहता था, वह खुद को बेंच पर केंद्रित कर लिया।

    युवा वायलिन वादक ने अपने संगीत में उत्कीर्ण किया,
    उन्होंने कहा, "युवा रक्त, मुझे एक स्मृति खेलो",
    जल्द ही, ध्वनि चारों ओर से प्रवेश करती है,
    अपनी चांदी की दुनिया में वापस ले लिया, मोहित,
    खोला सूटकेस, पत्र पढ़ा, vintaged polaroids,
    उसकी तलाश खत्म हो गई, यादों ने उसे खुद पाया।

    ReplyDelete