By Sancharini Bhattacharya
I do not exactly know
How to greet her!
The tropical rain passed by long back
The autumnal sky too, with a glimpse of its own
Winter has set in without our knowledge
The Spring is not that far
The canvas is ready to get painted
I don’t still know how to whisper,
We so much love her!
Our dreaming daughter
With cerebral knots of hair
Looks at her solitary windowpane
For a moment or two
Then again goes back to her study
Probably misses her papa, mom
And the tall and curly brother.
She has gone with a sabbatical from home
For study of her choice
Would visit home on a short break
Like the splash of sparkling Spring
Her brain full of absurd things
Her heart would bring in the lost joy
For papa, bhai and mom – to the broken home.
I wait for her with keenness
Intense in the expanded heart
And thoughts of multiple memories make me restless.
She will come – she is coming…
The life has stopped its breathing
The sun looks faded
The moon almost vanishing
The birds have forgotten singing
And the caterpillars are still within the cocoon.
The scenes and scenarios, the concrete and abstract
Are awaiting her arrival from dusk to dawn
Can she find a moment to listen to our heartbeats?
Amidst her theories and practical
On quantum mechanics and electro-statistics?
We know she keeps pretending that she is happy
But she is not – she too misses us very much!
Look, what her Ma is doing!
Instead of writing a piece with joyous notes
I tend to express her sadness, her frustrations of being
A failed wife, a failed activist, a failed poet, a failed mother
Out of this rhythmless expressions of morose and idiocy
May Ma at the ends send her heart-felt greetings
And say, ‘Happy Birthday to her!’
And wish her far better years in front of her…
With this note, we welcome you to visit us, my dear!
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Bio:
Rini Bhattacharya is a bilingual poet from Kolkata, India.
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