the mountains, the mountains…

These are the mountains, the misty mountains where the rocks wait, to sing in chorus,  frowning music into a scar. Here there are mountains, closed, misty mountains they do not care if we aren’t. Or are,  for that’s how it is and always were. For in the larger scheme of things, life is not life,…

The Game.

The board is set at birth, dices roll  the aim is never to win. Only to play and remain standing the game is to get free. A curse to the past,  A hymn to the present The game never stops  Until the dead end. There’s the truth and the lies the game, it knows them…

Different shores.

All seas are one, in a manner of speaking,water flows to water. Standing at the Bay of Bengalmy feet are touched by waves that may have kissedPacific shores. No matter how we look at it,all Gods too, are one, even the ones that are not.  I thought of my mother, on a Fowler’s bed,who could…

dust to dust

The end is always near, Death waits right round  the corner, softly  watching your approach nearer than the second before;  Fear is superfluous: for all that is born, will  die one day; the jewels you lust after will glitter in someone else’s ear. The house we built, too  will fall to seed with the wind…

Water on water (#worldpoetryday)

Water on water: the things that matter. Impossible to describe the deep empty longing, in the voice of dogs.  My childhood was elsewhere.  The light shone,  a thread through the eye  of a needle I had to fit into.  Calcutta is a big city, the grandest in our region.  But the wind still howls,  specially…

The study

The first November rain fell, bringing  with it a mild scent of winter, I know you will not be in your study, a room that I have not, cannot, enter ever nor will, where the door always was open  for me. Yet, in my mind today,  I revisit that home, I think of your aftershave,…

The Ganges at Chinsurah

Floating on the river I realise  it’s not the setting sun or the bridge  in the distance, it’s a woman in whose  arms lives have been lost and loved.  The river today is not the same as yesterday and the water snaking will be changing soon, The river today changes by the second yet remains…

The graveyard.

In this graveyard a boy once proposed to me,  We were young and callous and the world  Lay at our feet. We climbed the broken wall  To get inside, we did that often, my friends and I Daring each other to stay on till dark, exploring Among tombstones, reading aloud the words  Left for the…

Birthday wishes…

My father, Striding across the beach at dawn The plank of wood his surf board. Making sand castles with tunnels Waiting for the waves to re-load My father,  Indulging whatever the new fancy was. Waiting for me outside school. Calling out my name just because He liked to, the reason was moot. My father,  Laying…

The dying.

I often worried that when the call came, I’d be at work But the afternoon my mother dies, I am resting at home after lunch. So I tell myself to snap out of it And later as we prepare my mother, I think  this is the only time I will see her like this, because…

Full moon again

Again it’s just the two of us And you hide behind the clouds And as I pick my way on the terrace Your light still shines through,  Cutting through my firmament  The Kamini smells just as sweet The baby lemons nod in the breeze The darkness in my heart complete But not all darkness is cloying …

Kalapokhri

It poured, the sound of rainpounding on the water reminding me of rain drenched swimswhen days were fat and full. I threw away the bracelet that day, let it sink in the dark waters of Kalapokhri Not wanting it manacled around my wrist anymore. I am swayed by my thoughts. That swim in circles, memories…

Grief

One day I will cry. And I will cry a river Cascading over landscapes unknown Thundering over rocks and stones Carving a path of its very own. And when the tears finally meet the sea,  It will be on a widened estuary Peaceful and calm, no deltas for me No dredging on the edge to…

To Rubic (on turning 30).

Can mere words ever be enough for a son who taught me the art of taking myself less seriously, and made me a child again! The son who filled my world with fresh pots of paint colours I never knew existed bleeding into my grey refrain. Those unforgettable drives, longer swims, “the dark room”, getting…

Voices

I hear you, little brook as you babble  in my ears, I hear you too, little girl, crying in your mother’s arms, I hear you, lawyers, strident and demanding.  Some voices are pleasant, and some  can be soothed with toffee, some carry  on like there is no tomorrow,  Some silence themselves to echoes that are…

Thoughts from a hospital

At least now that I am not chained to the bedanymore, I can have more lucid thoughts.I walk this room, stretch myself and again countthe days till I can go home. Outside,people come and go oblivious to my eyeswatching from a window aboveas they go about their daily lives…Standing in the shade, looking bored, chewing…

On the 30th year…13.05.2023.

In the end it was easy to leave you. Your body burned on a raging fire and I was told to not look back, Although I would have, had I been told that ghosts would then follow me home. I would welcome those ghosts, Offer them tea or something stronger  Only for news of you….

Wretched.

Deep in the night the quiet voice of my father speaks A voice that carries into the dark cloud that feeds into my days, how wretched I think I must be,  That even my own mother couldn’t love me. “I always said that it was not the end of the world,  but I possibly never…

To Ipsy, sometime later. #glopowrimo #promptday30

Today’s prompt (day 30 and the final one of this challenge) is to write a palinode – a poem in which you retract a view or sentiment expressed in an earlier poem. So I have chosen a poem that I wrote earlier this year, based on another prompt where I was to give life advice to…

Muri Ghonto * #glopowrimo #promptday29

Today’s prompt: write your own two-part poem that focuses on a food or type of meal. At some point in the poem, describe the food or meal as if it were a specific kind of person. Give the food/meal at least one line of spoken dialogue. I. There’s a lot to be said about the…

given #promptday28 #glopowrimo

(Today’s prompt is to write an index poem.) Heat. Humidity. The smell of tuberose and lilies. Of course roses. In many colours, more roses than ever given while she was alive. Family, friends. Talking. The dead have to be given a send-off. The priest mutters, he is late. The room is full of things to…

The wolves of want. #promptday27 #glopowrimo

The prompt: Write your own poem titled “The _____ of ______ ,” where the first blank is a very particular kind of plant or animal, and the second blank is an abstract noun. The poem should contain at least one simile that plays on double meanings or otherwise doesn’t quite make “sense,” and describe things…

Bad bitch puppy #glopowrimo

In my father’s office room there is a little girl in grubby clothes  and she will always be there,  laughing and hiding under the table  with the charts and maps and papers with her scabby knees clasped  against her chest  next to the cupboard with a thousand drawers. But in my mother’s room there is…

the path #glopowrimo

It’s a narrow path we walk, as a poet I know its nameAs a mother, I balk, with you, I’m uncertainThe many roles I wear, mother, daughter, professional,Daughter-in-law, aunt, sometimes a confessional.I know you do not understand me as sometimes I know not youIt’s just one of those paths we walk, things we go throughYet…

Birthchart #glopowrimo

My father sits up on his bed, the room is dark, the curtains drawn. We all know he is dying The birth-chart is next to him contains the date and time, and I dare not look at it. I look into my page, I do not know how to read the stars. Years have passed,…

restless soul #glopowrimo #day23

“I have lain those beasts to rest,” I declare, pacing by the litchi tree, “the ones snapping at my heels,  begging me to train them… I have set them free.” You take a sip from your glass, “really?”  “I have, I have slain those demons  that were yanking at my chains  banished them from my…

Slant of Light #promptday22 #glopowrimo

Today’s prompt (day 22) is to find an Emily Dickinson poem – preferably one you’ve never previously read – and take out all the dashes and line breaks. Make it just one big block of prose. Now, rebreak the lines. Add words where you want. Take out some words. Make your own poem out of…

Calm #promptday21 #glopowrimo

(Today’s prompt is to choose an abstract noun from a given list and then use that as the title for a poem that contains very short lines, and at least one invented word.) How calm  you were the day you died, watching me running  pillar to post getting untied getting  things done,  things that were…

Lesson: day 41523. #promptday20 #glopowrimo

Today’s prompt: Have you ever heard someone wonder what future archaeologists, whether human or from alien civilization, will make of us? Today’s challenge is to answer that question in poetic form, exploring a particular object or place from the point of view of some far-off, future scientist? “This was a beautiful planet, see how it…

Monster #glopowrimo #promptday18

For this challenge cast your mind back to your own childhood and write a poem about something that scared you – or used to scare you – and which still haunts you (if only a little bit) today. Bolero does something to me when it plays I am un-Ravelled resting my head upon upon my father’s…

Rant #promptday18 #glopowrimo

Today, the challenge is to write an abecedarian poem – a poem in which the word choice follows the words/order of the alphabet. After the ablutionsBefore the briefComes the callingDark and deepErrors are earnedFears unfathomedGrief is goodHeals the heartIncantation idealJokers in jestKnow the knaveLemons for losersMedals in mauveNothing is not nothingOfcourse you owePoets are peopleQuietly…

Bitter Gourd #glopowrimo #promptday17

Today’s challenge asks you to write a poem that contains the name of a specific variety of edible plant….  “This karela* is the sweetest,” you used to say Plunging your knife and fork and cutting into the flesh I never could figure how you enjoyed the bitterness  That made us all gag and make funny faces. That…

Ma (09.10.1935 – 15.04.2023) #glopowrimo

you had the softest hands, your palms smoothed by years, the lines erased by time. How I held how I held those hands in mine, whispered in your ear that it was okay to let go. Not the suffering, not the pain, nor the hurt we caused each other, none of it matters anymore. I…

Role Model. #promptday15 #glopowrimo

Today’s prompt: Think of a person, real or imagined, who has been held out as an example of how to live, But…. As you lie drawing your last breathsThis is not easy to say.Yet it’s better I expressWhat I need to say some day. Mothers are to be looked up toIn Hindi movies, paragons of…

How do I hate You? #promptday14 #glopowrimo

So today is a prompt to parody a famous poem. Of course, I chose the one by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “How do I love thee, let me count the ways?” So here goes: How do I hate you, let me count the ways, Actually hate comes with a breadth and height You cannot. So I…

The elephant’s tail #promptday13 #glopowrimo

I love that story Baba used to say A long winded  One  About the cruel mahout  And  His elephant on the run. He chased  The pachyderm Over hills and vales Cities and by-lanes In sun and rain And caught up Finally When  The tusker  tried to escape  down the drain.   Wide-eyed   I’d listen  As…

The poem #promptday12 #glopowrimo

The poem I was writing died a nasty death it got sucked into listening to what the judge said . The Courtroom was packed, the crowd surged and in the stampede the poem was murdered. It reached out bloodied hands and in it I found A scribbled note telling me I had to go on….

Morning chatter #promptday11#glopowrimo

(today’s prompt is to play around with overheard language. My daughter was a chatter-box with her mouth running a mile a minute and I remembered those mornings when she would play with her food and talk ninety to the dozen about everything under the sun!) Why do we have sunflower seeds? Do I HAVE to…

The Hugli river. #promptday10 #glopowrimo

The Hugli today is not the same as yesterday and the water snaking will change soon. The Hugli today water changes by the second yet remains the same, much like a woman. The Hugli today wears a robe of consistency yet her very soul is one of change. The Hugli today is a toddler and…

Love #promptday9 #glopowrimo

(The prompt is a sonnet, so here is my take on it, a “Sonnet Sunday” of course!) Love was a thought I loved when I was young Over love many a sad song was sung The sad songs are the sweetest, don’t you think? More so when mixed with friends, regret and drink  The first…

Hector #glopowrimo #promptday8

(The prompt is elaborate so I will not set it here. Make of the poem what you will…) The pool blazes in the sunlight Lit by fires that have no kindling The smell of smoke that is not there Abrading my skin, have I touched a nerve? Hector follows me in the pool at Pailan…

The things I have. #promptday7 #glopowrimo

(Today’s prompt is to write a poem that plays with the idea of a list. So here it is, list of things I have with my father who I lost almost 31 years ago… miss him everyday.)  I have sea beaches where we looked for sea-shells, And we spent hours making sand castles I have…

Ashanti #promptday6 #glopowrimo

Today’s prompt is to find a poem in a language you don’t know. Now, read the poem to yourself, thinking about the sound and shape of the words, and the degree to which they remind you of words in your own language. Use those correspondences as the basis for a new poem. The poem I…

Mother #promptday5 #glopowrimo

For today’s challenge, write a poem in which laughter comes at what might otherwise seem an inappropriate moment – or one that the poem invites the reader to think of as inappropriate. My mother lies dying, I find bits of her scattered  about the house.    The first to go were dentures which she spat…

Dawn #promptday4 #glopowrimo

I wait for you where koels sing in the darkness just before dawn, when the day is yet to take wing I wait for you where koels sing promising a new beginning, sweet notes heralding your return I wait for you. Where koels sing in the darkness just before dawn.

there is joy…#promptday3 #glopowrimo

For today’s prompt I have taken a poem that I love and turned it on its head. The poem is in Bengali by Rabindranath Tagore and I have given a rough translation after my work for reference. There is joy there is birth, the rejoicing of a farewell There’s also unrest, there is pain, hopelessness…

Significance #promptday2 #glopowrimo

Ghosts swimming over the city snarl and growl in flashes of light soothing the wails of the new-born the unused words of the thesaurus. In the flesh of murdered milk in bloody shadows that speak only to me and the centauride that will not be taught the insignificance of our existence.

How to swim #promptday1 #glopowrimo

You get into the water, of course, you cannot stand on the bank flailing your hands, you jump right in. Head first, if you are adventurous. I was pushed in the pool as a child, came up sputtering but learned to swim Life is like that swimming pool where I have been diving again and…

Moving on

I want to climb on top of that flag-pole And fling myself on the ground below My body spattering among parked cars, my blood mixing in the rain drenched street. Sometimes that is all I want, to embrace the end, to accept that this IS the end, although it is nothing like I craved or…