For me to call it a day
Eyelids laden with sleep
Consider the passage of age:
“What transpired today that stood out
In the backdrop of yesterday?”
The day was like any
Of the six others that make a week
Like a uniformly drawn rainbow
Of seven white bands
A single bright bow
Stretching from peak to peak
An urban, mechanical truth
Of things zipping past in a blur
Work and business not stopping
To say hello and chat
To look at one\’s feet and smile
In deeply satisfying wonder
Days, like granules of white sugar
Melt in the stove of eternity
And all that is left floating
Is a memory caramelized
That questions the fickle faith
Of terrestrial fraternity
Ask the guardians of chronology,
\”What happened of the day?\”
They say, \”We don\’t know,\”
\”It turned into a week!\”
\”And what about the week?\”
\”We can\’t say,\” they say
\”It turned into a month!\”
\”And where did the month stray?\”
They say, \”Well, it seems,\”
\”It is now a whole year!\”
And before you know it is time
For the year to call it a day
Anupam Choudhury 