The Day I Was Born Poem by BASAB CHAUDHURI

I try to visualize the day I was born,
I do not care whether the day was sunny or rainy,
whether it was day or night,
but I am pretty sure I cried a lot that day,
my mother must have thought that the child would trouble her,
she was not incorrect.
A long time has passed by since then,
what have I been able to do during this pretty long journey?
I have a habit of philosophising simple events,
they do not matter, yet...
I try to put them in perspectives,
my perspectives.
They do not mean a lot to the world,
but they are important to me as they give me food for thought,
kind of rumination,
what if, or what if it isn't....
life's journey is so tumultuous,
it is more unpredictable than the cyclonic storm,
you never know the direction in which it will move,
and over the Bay of Bengal it often happens.
Yes, I am that kind of man who has changed direction,
the changes were abrupt.
Did they do any good to me?
I do not know.
I only know that this complex entity called life is full of surprises,
I saw... I observed.....
and I have been fascinated by men around.
Some are flesh only,
some are flesh and bones,
some are bones only
harder than the limestones.
What am I?
How do people perceive me?
If ever, heart and soul
that was the only goal
(of my mother) .

Such thoughts....
arise,
like waves
break on the shore,
my eyes set at a distance,
where the ocean
meets the sky,
and then
nothing is seen.

I am here,
I am no more,
no more.....