15th August has always been special because it is my father’s birthday. I used to love that day more than any other. Even my own birthday paled in comparison…we always got gifts on 15th August, usually there would be a neatly gift-wrapped new box of paints for me waiting at the breakfast table….. in myriad…
Tag: #iwrite #poetry
To Mesho (returning from Kalimati Jn. a.k.a. Tatanagar)
I don’t like how you lie there But your eyes search me out Looking for a familiar face Among a sea of servants. I like the way you talk Memories from the old earth Your youth, my father, the stories That scramble to be heard. I watch you as you try To lift those atrophied…
Unashamed.
I was ashamed. When they plucked at my hair and told me To sit on their lap I knew Something was not right. I was shamed. Was I too pretty, Was I too bright? I always thought “average”. Was the word That fit me right. But I was ashamed And I ran away. I did…
ipsita banerjee 