Bad Poet Alive

 Life has been sweeter and less gloomy this year, we are the last month of the year. Well I have started filtering good from the bad memories. So now I find a more positive and optimist me. Again everything happens for a reason, I search for omens and yes I have learned to say yes.

My junior, the young poet from Assamese dpt. had asked me to join the multilingual poetic meet he had organised. Poetry had never been so tempting fruit that I would bite at first glance. To me  "Poetry  is emotion embedded eternally". When I was in grade 5th I had notebooks filled with poetry about everything and anything. But after much ridicule I stopped writing poems. So when he asked about Multilingual Poetic meet, I was hesitant. I had good reason to say no. My parents 28th marriage anniversary fell on that day. But I had good reason to say yes- a new experience, exams were over, I was free.

On 2nd December, I went to the old part of our city. It is a shame that I never went to those parts. So I stepped onto an Old Primary School, I was informed the school was oldest school of our city. It was running in its 106th year. When I saw so many people around my first reaction was to run away. The chief guests were all published and award winning poets, other poets to were published or were well versed poets from there respective languages. Here I was there a non poet, holding a blue journal having a Doodle poem in hand. My junior too is a published poet, and he gifted me the book with his two poems published in it. 

Everyone read, from Assamese, Bangla, Koch- Rajbongshi, etc. I thought I will be a odd one out. So I kept irritating my junior about dropping my name. Everybody read two poems, here I had one. Fate twisted again, I was going to read  English Poem. I had never read poetry on stage, or in-front of people ever in my life. Once my soul sister and me were picked up for elocution, but when we reached the program never took place. I had no idea how to read such a small poem ever.. 

My turn came pretty late, by that time many beautiful poems had calmed the environment. Well I did read out my poem. But off course I did commit mistake, I read the second last line before third last line.  Then again I was thankful, that my spoonerism problem did not take place.  My junior said for first timer it was fine. The chief speaker said he appreciated poems from all the languages. By the end of the meet another poet read English poem, and he was great. His command of voice, use of words and timings perfect. I wish I could get tips from him. 

When finally the meet was over, one of the chief guest spoke to me, he said my poem was good but I did a mistake, I wrote "a innocent" in place of "an innocent". Then I realised while coping the poem for submission I committed the silly mistake. He said my poem was good, but I should change the end. Now wonder should I change the end? 

So here the doodle poem which I wrote somehow, poetry was never my cup of tea.

name- Symphony of Cacophony 

Standing on the tight rope

A feet towards chaos

The beauty in absence - Eternal

The soothing sound of cacophony

smiles upon the kindness of Chaos.

A feet towards calm

The beauty in presence -Temptation

The unsettling sound of symphony  

tears flow at merciless Calm.

The feet trembles like a dream within 

The rope shakes the imbalance of reality

The mirage of Happiness clenches in

The Hallucination of past lingers

An innocent feeds in womb of fear.

The chief guest had asked me to change the last word with Love or Peace. What should I do? After all Oscar Wilde said "a poet can survive anything but misprint". Since I am not a poet "All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling" Mr. Wilde again .

P.S- I thank my junior for the wonderful experience and evoking the bad poet in me.  I am going to my elder sister and brother in laws home in city of Joy tonight alone again. Will be busy for some days.

thanking you to bear with me
paulOaries