A meme pops
Humor hops
A joke is cracked
And so are you

Joy is sketched
A smile is etched
Deep in your face
It stays awhile
With a twinkle bright
And poof! it’s too late
And then, like a ripple
It diffuses and dissipates

You come back to normalcy
Nothing seems extraordinary
Strangely exposing
The background melancholy

It is not sorrow in the general sense
Simply, of enthusiasm, an absence
No, it’s not depression or desolation
It is just an intuitive observation

An observation
That pleasures are like islands of action
Amid infinite sorrows of inaction

For those pleasurely actions
One strives
Into a flurry of entertainments
One dives deeply

Foods evolve, surpassing heavens
Delight is derived; In being ravens
The party ends
To zero, the aftertaste tends
And like a flickering flame
It dies off in a lazy slackness
The light of enthu and amusement
Drowns in the melancholic blackness

No, it is not cynicism
Nor it is nihilistic
It is a careful observation
Of psyche-trends realistic

A song is played
In a dance; one sways
In sports one is consumed
Within profession one is subsumed
this full action, you are upbeat
The moment you are idle,
to emptiness you recede

Pleasure being like photon-bursts – raiding
Stillness is like darkness all-pervading
Life goes on – A fun-chalk scribbling
Going on scribbling
On the background of melancholy
The illusion of bliss is perfect
Wrapping us smugly and cozily
Well hidden from the background
-That of melancholy

-by Lalit Naidu

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