Poem: Lost Poet
By Dr. Archan Mehta
Gentle readers:
I started writing
Poems, as a child,
Without support,
Without encouragement,
In a land, Ahmedabad,
As barren as the moon,
A cultural wasteland.
Thus,
A wasteland of
Tears was my childhood:
I was a prisoner
Trapped within the
Four walls of a room,
School and college,
And without any
Hope of escape.
Instead, from my cage,
I would often dream
About the wild, blue
Yonder: the outdoors
Which held passion
In the form of sun,
Warmth, and honey.
Most of all,
I wished to be a farmer,
As rustic as green onions
And red tomatoes
And apples and olives,
But I was told to study
Engineering and medicine
Or, by default, end up
As a crooked lawyer.
In order to express
This predicament, I
Started writing verse,
At that tender age,
When experiences
Are still innocent
And the fertile imagination
Can plant roads, highways,
Santa Claus and tooth-fairies:
That was when I turned
Into a poet with a lament.
Surrounded by business types:
Petty shopkeepers and stock
Traders and academicians
More interested in minting
Money than scholarship:
These rude and crude people
Burned holes in my sensitive skin.
Indeed, I was the lone warrior
Who worked best at night,
Or early in the morning,
And I sought my own
Company and held
Hands with the
Human imagination
And aesthetic grace,
A dreamer among
Commercial and
Materialistic and
Consumerist beings:
Thus, I became the
Laughing stock
Of the masses who
Had no appreciation
For art nor artists.
Gentle readers:
It was a lonely struggle
To put pen to paper
And to express
This dormant
Impulse to create.
I did not express
Cold and metallic feelings,
But emotions borne from
The pain and suffering,
Through years of isolation
And being ruined by
A cruel examination system
Which knew no compromise.
If only I had been left
To dry besides clouds,
Sun, moon, and trees,
Creatures of nature,
And the unmistakable
Feeling of fresh and green
Grass growing beneath
Your feet as you walked
Alone on a splendid beach
Near the ocean with a breeze
Caressing your cheeks gently:
As you buried your feet deep
Into the wet earth, sand:
It sure felt like paradise.
**********
Dr. Archan Mehta has earned a PhD. in Management. Currently, Dr. Mehta is a Freelance Writer and Consultant based in India. Over the years, Dr. Mehta’s creative work has been featured in numerous publications in India, U.K., USA, South Africa and the Middle East. In his free time, Dr. Mehta likes to stroll in the outdoors, party with close friends, listen to music and stay on top of current events. Dr. Mehta is also fond of meditation. Please feel free to reach out to Dr. Mehta at
