There’s a chill in the April night; unexpected one it is.

Winter is Coming…we’re listening for last eight years.

(But) that was not for Kolkata; but, for the made up world,

where a forged-sword iron throne everyone eyeing on,

Similar to the world our ancestors understood to leave,

for their next and coming generations, at late.

‘Substantial development’ they named it and theorized it.

Enjoying our coffee we murmured to self–

Chaap nis na…don’t take pressure. Everything’s going to be fine.

Like our fore-generation we listened to preaching of the preachers

Mentioning the melting of ice in Poles, hymns of temperature of the oceans rising.

We, but, still sit back, and curse others taking the guise of righteous citizen.

We choose one to lead us into peace forgetting there’s no such thing peace;

It’s just silence that need to be reached walking on the steps of ladder of chaos.

The division has now grown more vivid; more prominent

than the Great China Wall from the moon.

Running around, passing the files over the desks; sharing the memo–

We sit back in the cages made for us; temperature at our will.

Who will be the fall guy when there will be more water than land on earth?

Who will be the fall guy when there will be more meals for the scavengers–

after the bombs are hurled, and the guns are banged?

Chaap nis na will be our saying from the heaven or hell or wherever we’ll be or

will it be the motto for the children we would leave behind?

Note: Chaap nis na…is similar to don’t take pressure; everything will be fine. It is a sort of Bengali corporate argot that from higher rank to lower say whenever there’s a situation out of hand. In Hindi, there’s a similar one saying tension mat le…sab thik ho jayega…

Written for Day 8 of National/Global Poem Writing Month 2019.


Our prompt for the day (optional, as always), is inspired by Smith’s poem. You may have noted that the central metaphor of “Good Bones” turns on a phrase used by real estate agents. Today, I’d like to challenge you to think about the argot of a particular job or profession, and see how you can incorporate it into a metaphor that governs or drives your poem.

5 responses to “Edifice”

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