We Are Still Counting | Pradipta Kishore Sundaray

I was on my freefall
Neither feeling free nor at ease
Pillow softening my head stance
But sleep hardly coming by.

Legs wide apart
Forced mind open to floodgates
Gates those were rusting and
Fell free in pieces, for bubbles.

Did I head trip; no imagination
Yep…tried to swim that whirling current
No respite, on my Sleepwell
Well dried since day one, bounced back, calling bell buzzed.

In that hiss inside
Recollected they still counting…a phrase undid my catnap
Remembered me on my counts
Numbers, Tables, Poems, Wars, Years and sits ups

Heaving that heavy sigh,
Found legs not supporting
Left hand deftly raised that leg….I braced
In that refreshed stock found
I lost in my sea beach.

Had my visits in Morning, Noon and Afternoon
In the morning Sunbath, palmed off the sands
Could not count, hands wet…..
Sticking everywhere like that bed bug

Noon, never run to Sun….no apple; but mischievous for revered Hanuman
Tried palming but like that gnat on my Holy Cow
Killed intent by clasping
It was scorching.

Reveling in afternoon
Squatted and clutched more than I could
My itchy palm not letting go
Tired, could not enjoy the evening casting its spell

That buzz had sounded me
Thrusting on left hand rose
Going to erase all memory
Sat a while!

Recounting all I had achieved
Found noting I gave on files, PPF balance, loans outstanding and jewels for wife striking, chapters completed, assignments over
Forgot to feel….

That kill we had for each other
The values we shared in coffee shops, beaches, during class breaks, picnics, parks and in Temples
Ask me a name; I will be timid and tame
Say who I helped….none but me

What I achieved….My says
I am still counting!
A still that all we steal
Steel into that we cheat ourselves.

Author : Pradipta Kishore Sundaray 

Pradipta Kishore Sundaray, a native of Odisha and 53 years old. A post Graduate by qualification, has worked in NGO sector for last 15 years in various capacities across states like Odisha, Chhattisgarh and MadhyaPradesh.  He has moved around deep in tribal pockets and experienced life there. His poems narrate life as it happens and that he encounters while fulfilling my societal and family obligation.  He has taken up to my literary activities after undergoing heart surgery and in a way it facilitates that he keeps himself engaged to roles other than that he is unable to meet and see him happy and engaged.

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