Immensity of Vista | Ajit Das

Sometimes at dead of night,
as I sit by the reading light,
memories reel back.

The prism of youth, rainbow days,
dreams of million hues
started the journey of life;
the stretch of hand measured all
that came on the way.

But, questions, doubts, en route,
one by one, reined the gallop,
blunted the steadfast stare;
chances, success spilled
beyond the dwarfing reach.

Then, crept up the thought,
gnawing deep at the heart,
like an old pain
that never goes, but lingers
on the hook of the conscious.

The terror of the unknown:
its grotesque mask,
the relentless final question
eluding an answer, seems
to eclipse any glimpse of light.

What else does then remain:
the spectre of physical decay
with ashes, bones of broken pride,
or the indomitable human spirit
in pursuit of eternal celestial love?

Ajit Das