HAPPY HOLI

He lived with heavy gloom always
his lungs filled with ashes
of the richest cigars:
a free recluse he was!
How  different times may be
but smiles were scarce-
his past weakened his self that
trembled in feverish present!

It was his 37th Holi!
Colours around him
only screamed at his walks:
he never felt alive!
Friends tried,
neighbours joined,
his kin prayed
but he never did smile!
He solved Sudokus
that Holi
on the verandah
with spills of red and green
here and there,
and each number on his riddle
his silent companion!

No emotions:
how was he awake?

Children arrived then,
unidentified little clowns
dressed in small clothes
from a place nearest!
They knew none,
nothing about his gloom
and imported cigars,
just poured on him a bag of colours
in silence, without murmurs.
He was startled and
they were crazily happy,
danced and jumped
in Holi songs that echoed
through the neighbourhood,
radios and recorders!

He stayed silent still!
The smallest of the party
then approached,
drew two lines
across his face
like a smile extended
from his lips!

And he felt his sorrows
wiped at an instant-
specks of earth of birth
on his aged face,
and little gods
of hope in front!

At last, he smiled!



(Third poem of ART AND POETRY SERIES - a nomination-poetry chain event on Facebook, nominated by Suparna Roy Choudhury.)