"Loss: Through The Eyes of My Generation", Lekhny composition -16-Oct-2023 "

Mishor

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"Loss: Through The Eyes of My Generation", Lekhny composition -16-Oct-2023 "

Loss: Through the Eyes of my Generation

I saw the light leave her loveless eyes,

The supernova collapses,

The passenger seat remains empty,

The best minds of my generation covered in white powder,

Her body crumbles in ecstacy,

Mouth curled in a smile made of self-pity,

I wonder through the alleys of North Calcutta,

Understanding loss.

Father left three missed calls while I stood upon that bridge,

The midnight traffic spitting on the cracked cement,

I leave behind a keychain,

A momentary flight till the bones crush in defeat,

I cling to my own arms and let Mother Ganges pull me in,

I float on the water,

Understanding loss.

My friend used to cut my hair,

I clung to the chair and let her bring a scissor near my throat,

A bit shorter here and a little adjustment there,

And one day blood stained her bedroom carpet,

The same scissors that cut my hair locked up in some police station locker,

I run my fingers through the tangled knots,

Understanding loss.

There was a time when maa might had called herself a revolutionary,

Discussions on Marxism surround the high ceilings of Coffee House,

Now she hums some song of protest while handling the kitchen utensils,

Dreams dead in a ditch,

A "satisfactory" marriage,

Her anger boiling down upon my head,

Both generations, troubled by men,

Understanding loss.

We are all children of aimless women,

If India was a person, she would sleep upon the footpath,

And watch silently as Her clothes get stolen from under the plastic bed,

Our goddess is a goddess of the vagabonds,

The broken hearted men lifting the same loads upon the truck everyday,

All of us with our heads held high,

Understanding loss.