Nothing would matter…
If I didn’t write anymore It would not matter Nothing that does not happen, matters Just like people who are not there Don’t matter Like their presence itself weighed down And everything suddenly feels Lighter and less burdened Like raindrops in the air No matter how natural they seem They are but a burden To the lighter purer holier maybe, air So once the rain stops We relish the freshness The sparkles and clarity The fragrance and the crispness Yet the rains are gone Just as naturally as they had come… Every morning I still draw the curtains apart Religiously, avoiding the bedside table Lest I topple something I let the warm sunshine trickle in On the bed that’s not slept in anymore I let cobwebs not accumulate In the corners and the window grills And every evening at dusk I switch on the lights And draw the curtains back on Lest people outside can see Though what can one possibly see In an empty room, I don’t know And for all I know Nothing would matter… Wasn’t that the first lesson we got From the first days of our lives The sun disappearing every evening Naturally and beautifully Just leaving the hint of the day behind The memories, the longings The sweetness in mind, the peace of it all… The moon gradually leaving us Every morning Just spreading its calmness And serenity in our souls And giving us the depth to Hold ourselves in our hopes And dreams and beliefs… Yet they know Nothing would matter…
Soumyanetra
Soumyanetra is an associate professor at the Economic Research Unit, Indian Statistical Institute, Kolkata. She has two collections of poems, You’re the Mecca I never want to visit (2019), Que Sera, Sera (2022), and a collection short stories How Long’s a Day (2021). She is the Winner of Asian Literary Society’s Wordsmith Award Contest 2020 (English Poetry) for her poem “An Elegy for the Unborn”. She was invited to participate in Sahitya Akademi’s Young Writer’s Meet in May 2021. She is also a passionate Bharat Natyam dancer.