Voices Poem by Ravi Panamanna

(What is the mould of our life? People of different streams, voices - different personalities. During our service life and otherwise, they contribute either positively or negatively to our individual life but on reflection, we can see that our biographies are nothing but a mould of these voices. Here, in this poem, I am presenting one such personality who was with me for over two decades during my service years at SBI Palakkad Civil Station and at SBI Palakkad Main branch. His peculiar personality fetched him more foes than friends. When he passed away, somebody remarked - 'An era has come to and end!) .

Thou art gone
I am here all alone.
Upon the dales
The springs are so pale.

For a long time
Thou wert my companion.
We were one feather
We had many pleasant hours.

But, during those early years
We were in different streams.
Your voice was strident,
Your hues were very different.

But, later on we picked up,
It began to be a tasty sip.
You began to be soft,
You no more showed any clout.

Our territories we kept intact,
We showed enough mutual respect.
We had a nice time being together,
I pick up those moments and cherish.

Those Carom sessions I fondly remember,
Those chatting moments I dearly behold.
Those Bank Day competitions, your Quiz program-
I am driven to a timeless frame.

Beyond thy sunnier climes
There was a gracious voice in you.
Was it a philosopher, intellect?
Else, the glimpses of a good heart?

A bypass and a few more years,
Towards the end, your seasons were answering.
And, leaving behind a legacy
On that Ranchi Ashram, you breathed your last.

Looking back,
What is the mould of my service life?
A stream of voices, strident and soft.
As they trickle, I am flown into my past,
As they envelope, my biography is really cast.
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17th November 2010.