To you-Reetobaan Datta

tbrdoodle

Illustration by Aekta.K

You are special

I thought you should know

 

On a hazy day,

the fog kisses the morning grass

Leaving behind a few drops

That wither away with the sultry heat of Ra.

But you.

You are a shower of bliss

That moistens every horizon withstanding the hottest day
In a Sahara desert.

 

You. You are evergreen.

Even the pinkest Chrysanthemum loses its colour

In the cold winter wind

The softest Lily roughens with the gush of hurricane

But you.

You are the golden rays of sun

That peep through the leaves

And provide mirth

To the undergrowth

Forgotten in a thousand footsteps

Crushed under a blanket of morrow trees

You. You are the greenest leaf in an Autumn tree

To which no other leaf

Trusts to remain

 

You. You are joy.

You are the lovers’ first kiss under a mistletoe

On Christmas Eve

You are the petrichor

Of an impending harvest

To the farmer, in impoverished living

You. You are hope.

 

You.

You are requiem

To the deaf man

The dance to Moonlight Sonata

In a ballroom

Decorated with a bed of Daffodils

And walls of pine cones

You are the orchestra

That plays its own tune,

With a rise and ebb

Even the calmest
Or the most turbulent of seas could not match.

You. You are music.

 

You. You are beautiful

Diana, Luna

Or Cleopatra

Lost away in plays

And a thousand allusions

That can’t be made sense of

Thousand heroines of the West

Or a land closer to home

Limp away and mean nothing

When they can’t stand tall to you.

You are beauty. You are beautiful

There are no measures
That compare save you.

You are beautiful.

You. You are glorious.

 

You. You are home.

That makes two thousand miles away

Feel like a stone’s throw away

The brook that flows

Brings with it cold water.

You. You bring home.

You.

You are home.

You.

You are home.

 

You. .

You are special.

If anything is wrong, you make right.

If anything’s wounded, you heal. .

 

You are the love

Whose light

I shall keep ignited

Till there is no air

Save the last one I breathe

Until I die.

Pragmatic and restless, Reetobaan cofounded a skam poetry collective, Type B Poetry. He is an aspiring medical journalist, who spends his time writing, photographing frames and reading psych journals.