Between Scylla And Charybdis
by Orbindu Ganga

 

 

Being the cynosure once

Upon a time, I lost the lustre.

With many estrangements,

Being treasured by all, a thought

Of being now remnants at

The hands of few, being caught

Between the two, I became an orphan.

 

I was ordained to be an

Embellished source; today

My thoughts are being perceived

With abhorrence, cursed

For being a conduit between

Two countries. I am being

Unheeded for being myself.

 

I breathe forlorn in a city of dreams

Where I was the dream for many.

The dreams have been christened

By many others; I am left far

Behind in the race. I heartened

Many hearts, mislaid in

The age of dreams. I live in destitution

With none remembering me.

 

I endure a trail to be reminisced

In history, to be sliced forever.

I am Urdu...

 

 

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