A Boy’s Clairvoyant Dream
He saw the lonely road ahead –
at eventide, early morn; yet it was in-between,
in dream-journeys, he questioned his soul
for answers, his burning desire to Know.
On sultry afternoons, mid-afternoon siesta,
visions remained, long after he awoke,
strengthened his resolve, for in his dreams
he was helping people with ailments.
At barely ten, the boy set out alone,
his brother carried him on his shoulders,
from the village, to the main pucca road
that led to the city, for him to study.
He saw the lonely road ahead –
faltered at his mother’s copious silent tears,
bade his father farewell; born late in their lives,
their forlorn faces pierced his heart,
but his dreams for the future were for them too,
to behold, so he began to walk, my grandfather,
at barely ten, the boy set out.
Three days. He walked for three days, alone,
rested nights, with relatives, in neighbouring villages.
He could have stayed home, cosseted
by his mother; he could have served the gods
with his father, the head priest in the temple.
And so began this journey to change his Life.
His dreams did not die a sudden death.
Grandfather studied medicine, qualified
as a surgeon; distinguished, respected.
Tonight, will I dream of him again?
At ten, I dreamt of fairy tales with happy endings;
in my twenties, reality wove fear with tears.
Now at three score seven, I just will my soul
as my eyes droop, heavy with sleep,
induce dreams of blue skies and the joy of spring!
**
Homecoming
The final descent
to the land of temples and hills,
through friendly skies, circumnavigating
unfriendly ones; monsoon thundershowers,
bolts of lightning, vibrations that set your teeth on edge.
Clouds afloat in various shades of blue.
Wheels screech on touchdown,
glide to a gentle halt;
Birds aghast at the invasion of metal foes.
I am Home, from distant shores
journeys spanning thirty years,
in missions and homes away from Home,
for the soil in each residence is India.
Each touchdown, in Bhubaneswar,
I glance at the deula, towering 150 feet high,
secure in the knowledge
I will soon retrace the steps of my ancestors,
over cobbled stones, pray at the same shrines,
at Ekamra Kshetra, as I did with my grandparents
and parents, in awe, in my childhood.
I smile in recollection of their endearing words,
ruffling my hair, now silver-grey, miss their embraces,
the healing touch of their soft pats on my cheeks,
the stories they shared, their tears as we bid farewell.
I am Home. I am Home.
**
Homeland
Childhood Homecomings,
Grandparents and warm embraces,
sweet delicacies to relish,
aromatic fragrances
that assailed the senses.
Flickering diyas at eventide,
from the puja room
on the roof, as we played hide and seek.
Happiness undefined.
In young adulthood
Coming Home to Odisha –
Mixed emotions, ferrying
our children and baggage
from parents to in-laws,
then back across oceans
to alien lands. Tired, perplexed.
Journeys and distant detours,
Happiness redefined.
In present times,
moments before touchdown
in Bhubaneswar,
I strain my neck
For a glimpse of the deula
of Lingaraja Temple,
Towering 150 feet high
In Ekamra Kshetra.
My heart sighs in content.
I will retrace the steps,
of seven generations of ancestors,
praying at the same shrines,
invoking blessings, for our children,
family and friends.
Odisha, the land of temples and hills,
Entices the weary to its pristine sea-lines.
Hear the music of the waves roar
During monsoon showers, or gently kiss
The sand in sunny skies.
Home. Joy underlined.
*******
Jayshree Misra Tripathi calls herself an 'arranger of words' and includes her maiden surname in her writing, as the eldest of five daughters. She lived a nomadic lifestyle from the mid-1980’s till 2015, an Indian Foreign Service spouse and wrote periodically, from across three continents. Jayshree followed up her Master’s Degree in English from Delhi University (1978), with a Post Graduate Diploma in Human Rights Law, from the National Law School of India University, Bengaluru ( distance education programme) in 2001. She has also taught English Language and Literature, been an examiner in English, for the International Baccalaureate Organisation Diploma and was their trained Consultant. Jayshree's books include The Sorrow of Unanswered Questions, Trips and Trials: A Selection of Poems and Songs, Tales in Verse for Children Everywhere, Uncertain Times, written during the pandemic, and What Not Words, short stories on journeys through diverse cultures. Folk tales from her home state of Odisha are in Amar Chitra Katha. Her poems have been published in the Journal of the Poetry Society of India, online The Punch Magazine, Muse India, Madras Courier, Huffington Post (now archived) and News18. Jayshree resides in Delhi and Bhubaneswar.
Leave a Reply