Tuesday, Aug 09, 2022

Through My Verse: Three Poems On Breaking Free

The poet urges her readers to break free from their mundane 9-to-5 lives and search for the numinous.

'Look for beauty, here on earth'. (Representational image)

Eshita Bhat’s poems are about the desire to escape from the mundane 9-to-5 life. She writes about living in an emptiness ‘Until the last/ Of this ash-ing white/ Numbness prevails/This fleeting night’. She urges her readers to break free and go hunting for adventures. To look for beauty, here on earth. Something like a picturesque landscape on an autumn day, leaves an everlasting imprint on its viewer, that she describes in her poem ‘Van Gogh Sky’.


Blue, pink and purple hues

Piano solos and rhythm and blues

Empty minds and inundating souls
For two hands, a million roles.

You could go home and write those emails,

Or you could run so far away,

A place distant from the nine through five,

Won't you at last sway?

Among this unfamiliar swarm

Everyone seems so warm

Your clandestine becoming

Or a heretical succumbing

The lights here flash

Only to slow down time

When the mind runs free as photons do

Overtakes a placidness sublime

Humble submission to the power

And fears are washed away;

Oblivious of that overfilled inbox,

You must, for once, sway!



One bit by the next

The sheet burns

So with it burns

The agony around.

As smoke dissipates

Into the evening air

Some emptiness abounds.

An enveloping fear

Preys on the free

Murdering smiles

In some angry spree.

In nameless blood

Thousands die

Headlines, headlights

Teary eyes.

An effective quietus

Are drags three or four

In a quaint corner

On the balcony floor.

With the moving clouds

And the setting sun

Bluing skies

Rather fun.

Until the last

Of this ash-ing white

Numbness prevails

This fleeting night.



There is a piece of land

Far away from this decrepitude

Where the sky compels you

To look for van Gogh's initials


Leaves here this day,

Turn an allaying shade of yellow

In the August sun.

The yellow doesn't upset;

Not once are you reminded of

The metaphorical decay and putrefaction.

All that abounds is

An unfamiliar joy fluttering inside you

Here come the butterflies.

Time here has no meaning;

But time is of the essence

It pauses and plays together

Removing you from who you even are

It's what makes these fleeting seconds

So serene, so divine

That the decadent accounts of heaven

May well fall short and

Confine themselves to rhymes

In children's books.

All you hear is a distant feign chatter

Glad it hardly matters.

With the wind blowing steadily,

Whiff the scents of the earth

The magical notes you didn't know

Now awaken inside of you

As you walk under this bountiful umbrella

Towards a destination

You wish dispels into thin air

So you may walk

Behind shadows

Turning obscure corners

Or pause to hear crickets

Stridulating at best

You could be fidgeting all along

Yet there is one big relief

That the van Gogh plot of sky

Is yours if you believe.


(Eshita Bhat is an aspiring poet from New Delhi, India. A graduate from Shri Ram College of Commerce, she was the Chief Editor for the institution's annual magazine, Yamuna. She upholds the tenet that putting rhythm to words can offer a sense of order to an otherwise chaotic life.)