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Introspection /Kamalika Bhattacharya

Introspection 
Kamalika Bhattacharya

The call of the roots

So many birds take flight,
Oh, don’t go, don’t take that height,
Come back, return,
The hunters have laid their traps tight—
Not just nets, but webs of deceit.
I know the struggle is real,
Competition is tough,
Defeats pile up,
Breaking the spirit, making it soft.
And that’s when they’ll seize,
Capture you, cage you with ease.
Oh, dear one, oh, dear one!
Don’t forget, don’t forget—
A defeated heart
Seeks comfort,
A simpler path, many assurances,
A little recognition, who doesn’t crave it?
But still, don’t forget, don’t forget—
These comforts are sinking sand,
Once you give in, you’ll sink deeper,
With no way to stand.
Slowly, the comforting hands slip away—
It’s all part of the hunters’ plan,
To grow foreign wealth,
Leaving behind the hands of blessings,
The free sky, the homeland’s soil.
By the time the plot is clear,
It’s often too late to come near,
But still, the homeland stands with pride,
Hoping some birds will return,
Drawn by the call of their roots,
To their nests, to the familiar.

🍂

 The Arm Chair


Sitting in my armchair, I gaze afar,
Eyes see outside, yet I perceive within,
The breeze turns pages of clouds in the sky,
Shadows of the furniture linger quietly inside.

Pictures on the wall,
Medals and trophies lined on wooden shelves,
Silently conversing among themselves,
Perhaps lamenting, perhaps blaming me,
For there’s no one left to listen to their tales patiently.

I’ve won them all, locked away,
Trapped in the cage of my pride,
They have no life,
Or else they would have left long ago,
Some in resentment, some in neglect,
Some making excuses, some in anger’s glow.

Here I sit alone in my armchair,
Lost in an unknown current’s flow,
With everything around, yet an empty heart,
Loneliness descends, deep in the twilight's art.

Maybe the furniture, the photos, the trophies,
Will listen to my stories as they silently stand,
Lifeless they are, no nod in reply,
I, the forlorn, sit in my armchair,
Watching the illusion of 
my solitary world’s despair.

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