Two poems by Dr. Santosh Bakaya

Darkness Descends

Darkness descends.

With it descends an unnamed fear.

I hear

footsteps coming near.

Is someone going to tear me to shreds?

Axe me?

Spear me to death?

Rob me of my meager wealth?

Pass snide comments about my robust health?

Stealthy footsteps trudge towards me.

Is the Grim Reaper on the prowl?

I hear a howl - my own.

Then -

A hand on my shoulder.

The night becomes colder.

But I sense something soothing, and become bolder.

It’s only a touch. Nothing much.

A soft, feathery touch.

A healing touch.

A touch of a feeling friend sitting next to me
in companionable silence.

No longer tense, my ears become attuned to the night's music.

Bright.

Brighter

Becomes the night;

the touch on my shoulder, ever so slight.

So light, yet holding me tight.

Of fear, hardly a trace.

The darkness, now a comforting embrace.

An Alien Language

Sleep had again eluded me; I had begun the counting of sheep.
A gnome was jitterbugging on a water-slickened surface.
It was soon joined by a pesky pixie pirouetting.
I got distracted, and, kept losing count of the sheep
jumping over the fence.

I climbed a rock, cautious, and apprehensive.
Butterflies flitting around,
sneaked into my stomach, creating a ruckus there.

Flit flit

Flap flap

Morphing into rap artists.
I saw a band of swashbuckling soldiers heading towards me
Left
Right
Left
Right
One of them crisply brought his feet together and saluted me.

I glimpsed words scribbled on the gaunt trunk of pines
and the wind whistling through them.
I tried to decode the words, but could not.
They were in an alien language.

The valley had been draped in a golden silk sheet.
Hundreds of ants clustered around a clod of earth
under the bushes.
One ant detached itself from its kith and kin.
It slowly but determinedly headed towards me.

“A gritty lot, you have to admit, eh?” It muttered,
eyes turned towards its fraternity.
My mouth fell open, as the ant took a detour
and went in a different direction- a path, less trodden.

Then there was silence.

The silence lasted a long time. Then I heard the creaking of wheels.
I continued with the sheep count.
One spunky sheep yanked itself free of the rope,
and ran towards freedom.
I again lost sleep and the counting of sheep began anew.
One... Two... Three… Four…
Insomnia plays strange tricks, you see.

Multiple award-winning poet, novelist, short story writer, biographer, TEDx Speaker, essayist, internationally acclaimed for her poetic biography of Bapu, Ballad of Bapu, Dr. Santosh Bakaya’s more than twenty-eightbooks encompass multiple genres.
Recipient of Reuel International Award, [Poetry, 2014],Setu International Award for ‘stellarcontribution to world literature’, 2018[Pittsburgh, USA], Eunice Dsouza Award [WE Literary Community, 2023], she runs a popular column, Morning Meanderings in Learning and Creativity. Com.

Collaborative E-Books:
Vodka by the Volga [With Dr. Ampat Koshy, Blue Pencil, 2020],
FromPrincep Ghat to Peer Panjal [With Gopal Lahiri, Blue Pencil, 2021]
have been # 1 Amazon bestsellers.
Mélange of Mavericks and Mutants[With Ramendra Kumar, Blue Pencil, 2022]

The Catnama [With Dr. Sunil Sharma, AuthorsPress, 2023]
Sunset in a Cupand The King of the Crickets had it, are her latest solo books of poetry. [AuthorsPress, 2024]
Her TEDx talk on The Myth of Writer’s Block is popular in creative writing circles.