THERE IS THIS STREET THAT I MEET EVERY DAY..

It is basically from an old poem that I wrote in ‘different and sometime overlapping’ units in August 2014. For the day-7 requirement, I have reworked and rewritten it – with modifications – and with ramifications :). I chose to do so because I found it close to what I wanted to do when the mail about this assignment dropped in my mailbox. Here it is:

(And on a day, when you are overworked, it proved more ‘thought-engaging’ than writing a new one altogether. :))

THERE IS THIS STREET THAT I MEET EVERY DAY..

There is this street that I meet every day,
Walking along its passage, talking within
But I don’t look back at its corner on my way
As I am aware of so far, as I have seen
I know its life as felt in my many 10 minutes
It’s, like life, is full of life, striking a chord within
There will be something in those 10 minutes
To know about but not the thing that I have seen

While passing through the street of my routine
I find the point to go within because there is more
The life in 10 minutes, scattered across, umpteen
Randomly stacked with identities on my daily chore
Every other day of its mundane life is a screen
That prevents me to look back at its encore
Pushing me to become we to look at its sheen
A canvas so vibrant, a view panoramic at its fore

I don’t look back at its corner because I know
There is this street that offers to open up to me
Every day, going beyond the horizon to grow
Much more, seeking me, seeking when I am free
The street calls me regularly saying a new hello
Asking me to go past, to see what I need to see
Teaching me how varied and how parallel can it go
Telling me how different and how routine days can be

From its shades to its elements the very next day
It’s a kaleidoscope waiting for me when the street calls
I know I have to be earnest with the way I sway
To know what I learnt today, to see where it falls
To realize life’s one more existence on this today
On this journey of togetherness that mutually enthralls
On that errand of indifference and selfishness that way
Sometimes, a day of meaninglessness is all in my halls

There is this street while on itinerary to somewhere
Consciously reading the juxtaposed formations of its being
We converse but the exchanges are silent and are in clear
The understanding demands no interference annoying
And respect for independent existences in our sphere
Yes, the street does indeed extend invitation assuaging
But we both know the restriction it may bring in its rear

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

THE STREET THAT I MEET EVERYDAY..

There is this street
That I meet every day
While on itinerary
To somewhere
Consciously reading
The juxtaposed
Formations of its being
We converse
But words are not spoken
The exchanges are
Silent, unilateral mostly
The understanding
Demands
No mutual interference
And respect for
Independent existences
Yes, the street
Does indeed extend
Invitations for more
But we both know
The restrictions
It may unknowingly bring
And we get along
Doing what we do
The opened up street
Has its all pages on offer
And I pick up the page
That comes to me with
My randomly stuck eyes..

Continued from:
THERE IS THIS STREET..
https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/2014/08/02/there-is-this-street/
THE STREET OF MY ROUTINE..
https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/2014/08/04/the-street-of-my-routine/
THE STREET THAT CALLS ME REGULARLY..
https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/2014/08/09/the-street-that-calls-me-regularly/

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

THE STREET THAT CALLS ME REGULARLY..

There is this street
That calls me regularly
To look beyond
What I need to see
But I cannot accept
The diversions
I look at its lifes
While passing it
In those 10 minutes
Telling me
How different
And how routine
The days can be
Teaching me
How varied
And how parallel
A life on a day
Can become
From its shades
To its elements
The every next day
I don’t listen to
When the street calls
And I don’t look back
After my 10 minutes
Of the day
And I know
I have to be earnest
With the reason
Of my no to the street
To know
What I learnt today
To realize life’s
One more existence
Of togetherness
Of indifference
Of selfishness
Of meaninglessness
While walking along
This street
That in meet every day
In my 10 minutes..

To continue..

Continued from:
THERE IS THIS STREET..
https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/2014/08/02/there-is-this-street/
THE STREET OF MY ROUTINE
https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/2014/08/04/the-street-of-my-routine/

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

THE STREET OF MY ROUTINE..

Continued from:
THERE IS THIS STREET..
https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/2014/08/02/there-is-this-street/

But I don’t look back at,
While passing through,
The street of my routine,
Because, there is more,
The life in 10 minutes,
Scattered across, 
Randomly stacked,
Has new identities, 
Every other day, 
Of its mundane life,
And I don’t look back,
Because I know, 
The many more,
10 minutes, 
Are yet to tell me,
Much more, seeking me,
Seeking my time,
There is this street,
That offers to open up, 
To me, everyday, 
Going beyond, 
Taking me to the lives,
What I have been to,
But I cannot accept it.. 

To continue..

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

MISSING IN A DAY

Missing in a day

Some words

Waiting to be spoken

Betrayed

By their meanings

That illusive peace

Abducted

Some years ago

Deceived

By its silence

That presence

From that year

In a melted oblivion  

Concealed

By its shallowness

Missing in a day

That life

Of several lives

Living severally alone

By its address

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

THERE IS THIS STREET..

There is this street,

That I cross everyday,

Walking along,

Its passage,

Passing though it,

I don’t look back,

At its corner,

While taking the turn,

As I am aware of,

As I have known,

So far,

I know its life,

As I have seen,

In many 10 minutes,

There maybe something,

To know past the life of,

The many 10 minutes,

Known so far,

But, I don’t look back..

To continue..

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

THE DAY IS BROKEN

The day is broken,
Unspoken, out of the blue,
And is still crashing on deep,
And it is numb,
Indifferent to the cries..

The day is broken,
Freezing the thoughts,
Pushing them to no return,
And hit by its vertigo,
Has grown dumb to every call..

The day is broken,
Its every bit betraying,
The selfishness rips apart,
To a humiliating despair,
As if it has no tomorrow..

Continue reading

IT’S AN INDIFFERENT DAY TODAY

It’s an indifferent day today
And like the mood of it
It doesn’t know the why of it

And unlike the day was to be
Beginning again to score high
It imitates that indifference

The sense of it feels misplaced
That unknown, scattered voice
Echoes the day’s detachment

This indifference sucks, goes in
The rout, the flirtations of it
Try to make me a part of the day

It’s an indifferent day today
Crooning like a confused beloved
That mimics her mischievousness

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/