By YASHWANT RAO

I stand on the brink of life
Of life beyond death.
In the grave lies a coffin
On it, I helplessly laid a floral wreath.

I closed my tear-filled eyes
My mind wandered into the hazy past.
I felt those tiny fingers holding my hand
Saying, “Dad, don’t walk too fast.”

I closed my tear-filled eyes
My mind entered the sugarcane field
He’d hide in the plantations
Saying, “Dad, catch me if you can?”

I closed my tear-filled eyes
My mind sat with him on a boulder
With utmost grit and resolve
He said, “Dad, I want to be a soldier.”

I closed my tear-filled eyes
My mind searched for more.
Newer memories did not appear.
They were the same as before.

I closed my tear-filled eyes
And let myself go.
I felt the wind caress my face
Like the zephyr.

I lay on the bed with my one stretched arm
One leg straight with one open palm
I felt the prick in my hand
My nerves began to calm.

The fading light outside the windows
Swept away the shadows.
Darkness crept into my room
It slithered stealthily under my pillow.