Literary Yard

Search for meaning


By: Abhishek Jha



The phone rang
waves all around him
echoing, bouncing off
invisible walls.
Petulant ringing,
his eardrums
on the verge of rebellion.


He opened his eyes
stared into the darkness
or was it dark at all?
that trickster.
First pretends to be a friend
then your savior
ends up being a
selfish Warrior
fighting for survival
long after you’re dead.


He blinked twice
and found himself
in a place
which could lend itself
to the description
of beauty
or life.


It might have been a hilltop
with cloud hats on his head,
the sun setting somewhere
in his visual pallet.
The heard of sheep
passing by,
his hands caressing the one
closest to him.
it might have been the blue sea
salty wind ruffling his hair.
A drink in his hand
it’s character not defined
by thirst but colors.
A mermaid and fairy,
fighting to get his attention.
He sat
drenched in self adulation.


He wanted to be titillated.
Was he capable of that?
He thought he was an old man.
An inevitable mistake
considering his inability
to cope up with the freedom
one enjoys after
shedding the organic.


Blackness drew him back.
He felt serene
or sedated
wasn’t much of a difference.
He longed,
his entire life dedicated
to the greater karmic cause
and now that he was here
he felt neither nothingness
nor completeness.
Just a yearning
for the trivial, mundane
things of everyday life.
Writing a diary
having a drink
listening to laughter
for these,
he longed.


Images continued to flash
in the dark.
‘Now showing’
A montage of his life
that had tired him out.
He had been repeating it
inside his head
since long before his death.
Nothing left undone.
Nothing left unsaid.
He longed and yearned
to Return
to work
live everyday again,
Not differently or better
but live, again.


All he could do
was to sit in the dark.
His eyes pensive,
yet serene.
Whistling, singing
an ethereal tune
only his kind could play.
He looked at the phone.
It was silent.
He closed his eyes,
waited, for he would
act indifferently
if ever, it rang again.


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