Special November 2024 "EDITOR'S CHOICE" Feature:
POEMS OF PRAMOD GANGADHARAN
BETWEEN REMEDY AND THE RIDDLE
When they already knew,
Hushed whispers in the back rooms,
None of the drugs can cure
The aches that burrow deep,
The wounds of the spirit,
The loneliness that lingers
Like an uninvited guest.
Yet still, the practitioners scribble,
Ink flowing like the river of hope,
Prescribing varieties of pills,
A kaleidoscope of colours that promise relief,
But offer only the illusion of a cure,
Like a mirage in the desert sun.
They shuffle through the notes,
The weight of expectation heavy,
As if each tablet is a talisman,
A prayer for the broken,
A lifeline thrown to those adrift,
In this ocean of despair.
And in the quiet moments,
When hearts beat softly
Against the walls of their chests,
They ponder the paradox -
The dance of science and faith,
The fine line between remedy and riddle
As they seek to heal
What cannot be touched with hands.
So we swallow the capsules
Of their good intentions,
Hoping for something -
A flicker, a spark,
A whisper that says
We are not alone
In this vast, aching world,
Even if the cure
Remains just out of reach.
PHANTOM THREADS
I had walked a long distance
closing the doors
that lead back to my past,
making my path narrower,
battling shadows that appear
with each step.
But at every turn,
like whispers in the wind,
there are echoes,
small things reminding me -
a laugh, a song,
the taste of something sweet,
awakening places I thought
could stay closed.
Memories slip through the cracks,
inviting themselves to stay,
like a well-loved book,
worn and well-read,
never truly forgotten.
They remind me of who I was,
of sunny days and evening twilight,
of friendships that glowed
like fireflies fading,
before the night swallowed them.
Still,
I walk my path,
with every breath
a struggle against the tide,
holding onto the moments,
both the bright
and the dark,
for they are all mine,
woven into the fabric
of my heart
URBAN NIGHT
After such a long,
Long way back home,
The Sun is exhausted, clocking out at last,
The brightness of day stolen back
From the edges.
Now, however, for a while,
It paints the sky -
A soft canvas of orange, pink and deep violet
Like to say to night,
"I've not done wiht you yet."
Azure stretches far
The cool breath of twilight wraps
Around the shoulders of evening,
Holding onto whispers of light,
As stars begin to blink in the still silence.
The world beneath me
Hushes, cars slow, commuters pause,
Each heart catching the glow,
Before darkness settles in,
Like a blanket across this tired town.
And I, just a wanderer,
Homing inward,
Catch glimpses of such beauty that the day is full again
Of closing colours - an act of defiance
By some last light of the short day.
KARWA CHAUTH
There she stays in my heart,
Who says my name at night,
Continuously chanting on soft air,
Desiring my long life.
She wakes before day breaks,
Fasting the hours' slow pace,
Her smile is a lantern,
Illuminating the road to the moon.
Watching she looks up to the sky,
Hoping love that shall stay,
Arched like a promise,
Her heart in a kind of aura.
But my aura dances,
Mischief spun with delicate light,
Like dark playing tricks,
It becomes hard to see me clearly.
But still, expecting,
Warmth that seeps through,
Binds my soul with hers,
As night drives on to keep pace with ours.
Poet's notation: ~ 'Karwa Chauth', also known as Karva Chauth, is a significant festival celebrated by married Hindu women, primarily in Northern and Western India. Festival is a beautiful blend of devotion, love, and tradition, where women fast from sunrise to moonrise for the well-being and longevity of their husbands. ~
PRAMOD GANGADHARAN belongs to Kozhikode, Kerala, India.
He started writing poems and short stories at an early age. He was an
English faculty in Bright Academy Calicut, Malabar Arts and Commerce
College, Mercy College and Kakkodi Women's College. Now he is self-
employed as a service provider of Kerala Suchitwa Mission. He is also
the founder of We Share Charitable Trust, actively involved in the
upliftment of the underprivileged.
He is the Founder cum Chairman of Pen Wonders International, a fast - growing poetic group on Facebook, working for the cause of literary
elevations across the globe. He is certified as the Honored Poet of India
on the 73rd Independence Day in 2019 by Seychelles Government
Accredited Literary Society LFSF. He is also awarded diploma as World
Poetic Star for his contributions to world poetry with excellence. In 2020,
he was awarded by Gujarat Sahitya Academy and Motivational Strips.
Pramod writes poems in the pen name of Sagarikapramod.
Comments