Myriad Reflections. Shastri Akella

Green Rooms
The lips of the flame
crackle and leap

trying to reach out
to some unfulfilled dream
of their burning heart

striving to transfer
the soul of the departed
to heaven’s safe custody

eyes blazing
brows drenched in sweat

heart echoing the
melancholy cry of the
embers

I stand and stare
at the burning Ghats – the green rooms of afterlife

where human life ends
a body crumbled and
defaced

to be refashion and structured
into another form

the actor ready to take on
new roles
in another lifetime

my senses mingling
with the rotting graveyard smells

I wonder what would happen
if life imitated afterlife

and there was a green room
where we could just enter

surrender our follies
and emerge

our memories pasted over
with a magical rouge
the cracks and blank spaces blended
our memories of the epoch gone by, indistinguishable

yes, a green room

where we could surrender our tears
and the flickering screens
smiling lips
brown beard
blue eyes
and caramel face

and emerge from the room
mind blank and
face made up
clean of all traces of emotions

lips painted with the red of new loves
eyes framed with the kohl of fresh dreams
and cheeks imprinted with the blush of
a new life unexplored

Thunders strike
the skyline pinched with
purple flashes

the flames leaping higher
crying and angry and helpless

A dark cloud emerges from within
and steps closer
fists clenched
eyes glazed over

the tongues of the flame leap and lick
like the pallet of a hungry beast

the dark cloud has vanished, only the satiated glee of the flame remains

The hours are gone
so is the struggle
all is silent now

I am a star
cushioned in the velvety carpet
of the heavens
away from the world
and yet a part of its green rooms.