Forgetting Poem by Ananya Guha

Morning is a waking up in dreams
the night's taste still leaves
with an acrid flavour of forgetting.
The chaos is all around, the fervour
of this autumn festival, as the goddess
manicured has left her abode, and descended
amidst rains in terrestrial seas.

This year the Goddess may be unhappy
to see too many deaths around a country
inhabiting proliferation, price rise and
of course the poverty of hope, although
promises have been made of burgeoning trade
and smart classrooms, cities.

Clothed in new attire children are seeking blessings.
Elders, parents, grand parents. Ubiquity of living.
Shop keepers keep their doors open late, in a gesture
of fraternity, hoping slyly to sell-more.

Animals are in slumber, languor. Suddenly keep quiet.
Maybe festivity is not their world.
They are silent, reticent.

The evening will come again like a vicious cycle of summer.
Forgetting.