Love is a metaphor.

April, 2020

As the dusk melts into an inverted kaleidoscope, 

the birds outside my window twitter lullabies like Mozart's symphonies!

A canopy of fragile words audaciously perforate the crevices of my mind.

And music swirls up in the air,

as the carvan plays --- 

" Phir le aaya dil majboor kya keeje 

Raas na aaya rehna door kya keeje 

Dil keh raha hai usse mukammal kar bhi aao

Woh jo adhuri si baat baki hai...."

I read hundred metaphors of pain in Arijit's mellifluous voice. 

On a day like this my heart pumps out alphabets.

Poetry sprouts out from the hollows of my collarbone. 

So, I tentatively grip on my pen and write a love poem , in memoies of you( because the truth can only be told in metaphors).

" You resembled my favorite passages 

from all the books I loved.

So, I memorized you like

You were the map to my home.

Your heartbeats were music, 

Springtime acoustics to the 

empty pavements of my heart that

listens to dry rustling leaves now. 

Your smile looked like a decorated 

churches on a Christmas eve.

The kind where dreamers like me 

get lost in between unfathomable 

galaxies! 

You were like an azure breeze 

on a July tuesday morning 

in my mystical hurricane,

VULNERABLE.

DESTRUCTIVE.

UNEXPECTED. "

​

-Dipjoyee Aich