National Poem Writing Month 2018 Day#17: Following Uma Gowrishankar’s suggestion write a poem re-telling a family anecdote that has stuck with you over time.
The first time I heard English songs.
That time it was either the hit Bollywood songs or songs of Rabindranath Tagore.
That time it was either old Bollywood songs or songs from Golden Era Bengali movies.
That time it was what a mediocre Bengali family had to play, be it day or night.
That time channels with name MTV, V TV were new to our households
And hearing them considered as sin; as listening to the chasms of Saturn.
One day, during this time, my adolescent Didi made some award-worthy courageous buy.
Two English Books–The Secret Garden and Kidnapped.
The later one was for me; illustrated so that I can find interest to read it at that age
(Later I had read this book in other forms but never felt adventurous
As I feel when I read this version till now).
Two hardcover cassette tapes.
One was of what I remember that one was of Rap & there was the logo of Coke.
Another one I remember clearly the cover was a colorful one with four squares.
She was scolded for the later purchases; English songs and that too in the cassette.
Spell of Saturn captive in those darkened reels, and now the evil will live in the house.
I do not remember the songs, but, I remember in late morning when she had a holiday
And Ma went to the office, we, me and my Didi, sat down to listen to them.
I remember they were like fresh petrichor.
Men singing something whose lyrics I couldn’t get but the music I like a lot.
Sometimes Didi used to listen to them in Walkman.
I tried once but it left it dizzy so I remain glued to the Phillips Tape Recorder
(It was the gift from my father; his last gift to her mainly, and to me also).
Many years later while changing the home I discovered the tape again among many
Other tapes destroyed by termite & the damp & the moist of the age-old house.
The paper cover was tattered making it impossible to read the artist or the album name.
After the many years, I stumbled on the album again at a new music shop aisle.
Tapes were out. CD was the in-thing. And the album was on CD.
I couldn’t afford that CD because I was a college goer and the pocket money—
I invested in buying books and magazines–monthly ones full of poems & stories.
The album, Ma’s Saturn’s Chasm, my childhood memory is
Colours by Michael Learn to Rock.