Embraced by the fate of ageing,
My camera-phone struggles to respond in time,
Causing the best scenes to go missing,
Which I am sure will never recur anytime.
The shutter blinks eons after being clicked,
Preventing me from freezing the time;
But those unexpected moments it picked,
Are images rendered artistically prime.
I muse over those moments uncaptured in retrospection,
My mind’s dark-room recreating the scenery,
Processing them with my imagination,
And archiving them in the gallery of memory.
I wish I were a painter talented,
To reproduce those images on a canvass;
So that the treasure is evenly distributed,
Making my mission as an artist a success.
Ah yes, time changes everything, doesn't it? You did a splendid job describing the aging process. We must make the most of our time here on earth. '10! ' for you, my friend. Warm Wishes, Marilyn
@ Prof. Indira Babbellapati & Ms. Marilyn Lott: Thank you for all your support and comments. With Love, Ranjit.
Capturing the instant...which you try to do, all too conscious that time is ephemeral.
You have beauty in your painted words too..and the reader can well capture your picturesque heart... that your mind is juvenile and alert to set right your camera, recreate a snapshot of captured hearts of the readers...thank you
Your perception and truth are invariably intertwined in this artfully depicted piece that is written with style and conviction. thanks, mandara
very well expressed...you are doing the next best thing to painting...poetry! ! ...painting of words
Exceedingly beautiful lines, very nice.......... The shutter blinks eons after being clicked, Preventing me from freezing the time; But those unexpected moments it picked, Are images rendered artistically prime.
my mind's dark room recreating the scenery- thisa line stands out in an otherwise absolutely lovely poem, with right dose of humour, expression of feelings like being perplexed. take comfort that photographs on camera could get deleted, it could again cheat. but what is there in your store consciousness, you can revel in again and again.
moments r uncaptured but r always captured in our hearts... i loved this poem.... well written.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
you used a wonderful metaphor to contemplate on the process of aging and how one's reflexes, howmuchever one refuses to admit, go slow as one ages. the best phot or painting is the one the mindscape retains forever!