The full moon light making all white
The neon-halogen light street exception.
An aeroplane roared through summer sky
Amongst the twinkling dotted stars.
Long ago, decades ago, once evening
Tresspassed as the plane went far.
A tiled roof house; a decayed balcony;
Air smelled of jaba, nayantara, tulsi, mango
Air resonating names of Krishna, 108.
Breeze smelled of incense sticks;
Breeze conveying buzz of mosquitoes.
A lamp lightened thakur ghar;
An emergency light lightened room.
Dida in her early sixties looking godly.
I’m angry on you not ’cause of you’ve left me
But, for gifting me so many assurances, so many promises.
They’re crowding me, my solitary, Rupai…
They’re not letting me miss my Dida.
I’ll not ask why you didn’t give me time…
I’ll ask why you free me from my darkness…
Picture Courtesy: Closed Windows by the poet.