With good part of the moon eaten
By a shadow of our earth mother,
Just now we espy in the east of sky
Stretchmarks like we find at night
On our mother’s child soft tummy,
And we see him back all of a piece
Grinning behind a waving coconut.
A farmer standing in green cow
Was he a defence against dust?
Not so ancient man drops a sun
As we stand here in green rice.
We are our defenceless ogglers
Of beauty to drop our own suns,
Just trying to fortify our bodies
Against dust by a fortwall of art.
These are not made of effulgent light
That dissipates to the interior of west.
They are made of real earth to break.
Watch made- to- break horse smiles
As their faces break in a comic mirth
Of earth horses expected to fly a sky.
(Bankura in West Bengal is famed for beautiful terra cotta horses made by traditional craftsmen)
A bag on back had news to deliver
News about others’ weighty matters
As death, love , ambition ,happiness.
The way he hurled paper as missile
In your balcony it was very evident
Last named was not on the agenda.
His leg bloodied ,yet his arms strong
Captain soul senses horror of shade
But looks years in the face unafraid.
The years are not afraid in their eyes.
His dust does not bring tears to them,
Only a snicker on the curve of the lip.
(We are talking about William Earnest Henley’s manly poem Invectus)
They have not put wind in pipes yet.
Their wind is yet to form in breeze.
But once a breeze begins it will end
In whoosh through gaps in window,
A light indistinguishable from wind.
An apple goes up and down an Adam
A circle of girl lips is mango’s cuckoo
A deaf bird marking the school time
A breeze shushing an old man pipal-
They were small children, little birds.
Plastering man falls to death
A matter of lying a face down
Negotiating its four-story fall
So deftly that it comes down
In a sharp two second record
Unequalled in hospital annals.
Instantly it forgot plastering.