Returning to the halls of the Mayfair Convention, Bhubaneswar on September 22, 2024, for my second year, I was enveloped by nostalgia, déjà vu, and quite anticipation. Memories of past triumphs at last year’s Limericks contest mingled with the nerves of facing a raised bar, knowing this stage always demands the unexpected.
From crafting verses on the beauty of nature to reflecting on lost friendship, I braced for the poetic challenge ahead.
Familiar faces greeted me — those who had guided me last year — settling my nerves with their warmth. Meeting the esteemed judges, Prof Himansu Mohapatra and Dr Rabindra Swain, filled me with reverence. Their presence reminded me of how much there was still to learn.
Soon, I found myself seated with my five brilliant co-participants, the familiar green notepads before us — unchanged, yet filled with new possibilities.
As I held the pen, the blank page became an opportunity. But as I drafted the first verse, the words faltered. In moments like these, I draw from the heart.
A poet, the best of us, becomes a chameleon— blending to fit the theme, allowing the words to flow naturally before we even realise.
By 10, Deputy Chief Minister of Odisha Kanak Vardhan Singh Deo and The New Indian Express’ Editorial Director Prabhu Chawla entered, and the room came alive with Odisha’s literary giants. As the jurors deliberated, we finalists were told we had won, yet the anticipation of our final standings lingered.
And while the wait thickened the air, we recited our poems to an august audience of literary luminaries, a moment of grace and gravity.
When the Deputy CM took the stage, we, the Top Three, clasped hands in shared joy. One by one, the seats cleared, leaving me alone. It struck me then — in moments, I would be shaking hands with the Deputy Chief Minister and Prabhu Chawla sir as the winner.
As I approached the stage, I saw the fulfilment in the jurors’ eyes which was a silent, unforgettable tribute to the journey that had brought me here.
MY POEM
Your Evanescent Company
Your smile still lives in the sincerity of my vespers,
My heart still atunes itself on how to live on by,
And as the rain settles the dust, I humbly remember a promised land,
Which now decays as bittersweet flashes of what once was in the changing sand,
The stolen moments, oh dearest pal, I hold close to the aching corners of my smile,
As I ponder on those innocent days of our mischief in the ancestral tiles,
And the chasm which remains in the void of my mind,
Reminds of me a bitter truth that you are a memory which I fail to leave behind,
And the school corridors remind me of our jolly days,
Now, I clasp onto the telephone which rings no more,
And the river bank makes me ponder on the place where we soaked our feet and now where the lone swan lays,
And the beaches don’t feel joyous, as time crumbles the castles we built by the shore,
And I sit in this solitude of my company,
Wondering how it would’ve been,
If the sun rose from the west and we never forgot who we might’ve been,
And I ponder, if you saw in us, what I had seen.
(Tarun Tapan Bhuyan is a student of SAI International School. He participated in the poetry competition at Odisha Literary Festival 2024 on September 22, 2024. He won the first prize. Views expressed are his own.)
