An Eulogy

A star studded fiesta does the charm

Sways us to the other side

Makes one forget the grim realities

The depths of the harsh truths

Yet as the curtains pull

We go home to the good old ordinary

The familiar sense of homes

The place that encapsulates our grounded happiness.

Ashoke, you lived there.

In the unclosed vermilion bottles of a Puja Room

The hanging garments of a sunny balcony

In the haphazard line of slippers on an entrance

In the painted porches of every door

You became a walk to the closest pan wala dukaandar

A small talk with the vegetable vendor

The sound of a cooker hooting it’s 4th whistle

In a life of the extra ordinarily ordinary

You are a fresh smell of a normalcy

One could swear you were probably a neighbour

Or just maybe a passer-by

Here’s a charm you good ol sick man

The only you’d always be known by

Always remembered by
Always remembered by

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