Whispering Whistles rajat dalai

Poetry relating to different shades of a specific blue for its referred to as a sad colour, but actually is vital.

बचपन - जवानी - बुढ़ापे का संवाद।

//The colours you forgot to take away.

I have been a home to parasites
With minimal urge to live within me
They say I am blind at times to recognise
The beauty and belongingness of being a host.
I creep every dawn with black coffee
And black dailies filled with black headlines
With black inks on innocent white paper.
Their violence on the sheet reflects
Exactly the pain and grief of the subject.
And amidst all these blacks and whites
There are a few gray ones in the smallest corners
As headlines have become something
The lines on head doesn't widen for anymore.

I feel like being in a nation
Diseased with Parkinson's and smile
A smile of sattire, as another child is killed
By the gluttonous belly of a rich lad
Who forgot or rather chose to leave a bowl
Filled with life but for the one less privileged.

My country feels like an antonym
Of what its flag was actually meant for.
There lies a huge gap amidst saffron and green
All left between is barren and white
And the wheel which was to keep them together
Has been left untouched by both of them.
I pity it for being a wheel from my lands.
I pity for none from both the extremes could
Till date understand it shall rotate to success
When both of them tried the same clockwise directions.

Maybe the people who bleed for this
Have left their colours for us
Very immature us
Who question their thoughts and ask
Aren't these "The colours you forgot to take away!..."
©Rajat Kumar Dalai