Page 59 - Litteratteur Redefining World December issue
P. 59

Litterateur redefining world                      December 2020

                        The Hue of Change, from Marvel to Marble

                                               Somjeeta Pandey

                Somjeeta   Pandey    currently   resides   in  2018.
                Kolkata, India. She is an Assistant Professor  The newspapers are filled with the heart-
                of  English  at  Gobardanga  Hindu  College,   wrenching news of the spectacular white
                West  Bengal,  India.  She  is  also  a  part-time  marble
                PhD scholar at the Department of Humanities
                and  Social  Science  at  Indian  Institute  of  monument changing its color due to
                Technology (IIT), Kharagpur.                   pollution.
                                                               The monument, that was once the apotheosis
                                                               of beauty and love, was slowly turning into a
                                                               bleak shadow of its former self.
                                                               Insect feces and industrial emissions had
                                                               turned the Makrana marble monument into
                                                               yellow and
                                                               green, stripping it off its white-washed
                                                               My heart sank.
                                                               I had visited the Taj Mahal at the age of thirty.
                                                               The times had been different then!
                                                               I had the fortune of basking in the
                 1970.                                         breathtaking resplendence of the Taj Mahal.
                 At exactly 4 am I stood in front of the       Forty-eight years have passed since then,
                 monument,                                     The cruel hands of time have not spared me.
                 The sun rays were slowly peeping              I have aged, my body has changed colors, my
                 through the vast cloud of darkness,           skin has grown thinner and translucent, full
                 I failed to properly discern its shape        of
                 but as the time’s hands slowly                wrinkles and folds.
                 moved the wheel of time, my                   But my heart aches to think of the havoc
                 eyes captured the most breathtaking           mankind is indulging in wrecking.
                 moment of my life,                            As I sadly looked at the newspaper picture of
                 The wondrous monument with its                the Taj Mahal, I sardonically laughed at the
                 magnificent glory was standing right          irony
                 in front of my eyes,                          of life!
                 marvelously white, glimmering in the          The burden of these passing years was
                 rays of the sun,                              supposed to rob me off my youthful hue,
                 I sat there, awestruck and                    But an inanimate wonder of the world now
                 mesmerized, meticulously noting the           stood battered and dilapidated.
                 changing colors of the                        Time changed the colors of my body,
                 monument, from pink to white to               Humans changed the color of the Taj Mahal.
                 golden, synchronized perfectly with
                 the changing colors
                 of the sky.
                 . . .

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