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| Jagari Mukherjee |
MURAL
The
wall of Ling’s Pavilion*
had a mural of a river
with mysterious boats and merchants.
It made me dream
of traveling along such a route
carrying treasure-chests of
colorful silks and fragrant tea.
I wanted to escape from
the heartbreak of my
early twenties and visited
the restaurant often.
Every time I looked at the wall
I wished I were Alice
and the wall was a looking glass
or a wonderland that I could
escape into and be transported
to a time, or rather, a place
of stillness and peace.
Of course – it is an imaginary world
where there are no wars
and no pirates on the river
in the mural.
with mysterious boats and merchants.
It made me dream
of traveling along such a route
carrying treasure-chests of
colorful silks and fragrant tea.
I wanted to escape from
the heartbreak of my
early twenties and visited
the restaurant often.
Every time I looked at the wall
I wished I were Alice
and the wall was a looking glass
or a wonderland that I could
escape into and be transported
to a time, or rather, a place
of stillness and peace.
Of course – it is an imaginary world
where there are no wars
and no pirates on the river
in the mural.
*A Chinese restaurant in South Bombay
A HIBISCUS
IN THE MORNING
The
warm honey of orange sunlight
Every
morning, and the trees
In
dresses of dark green leaves
Restore
my tired spirits, and I
Am
renewed, as if I have drunk
A
concoction of syrups magical –
And
I sit in a bamboo chair
On
the balcony, trying to take it
All
in with my every breath, when
My
eyes fall on a dark red hibiscus
Nestled
like a heart in a body of green.
For
a while, I desire the hibiscus in my hair
To
adorn me, and as I look,
My
desire to possess the flower envelop me
Like
a handmade quilt, and I, enjoying its warmth, fantasize
About
the hibiscus as a hair clip.
But
it looks so content
Snuggled
among leaves, so fulfilled…
That
I, ashamed, am reluctant
To
pluck out a lovely heart, and
Ultimately,
Let
it be.
NOT BE
If
to be or not to be
Is
a question, then I would
Rather
not be.
The endless pain in my soul
Weaves
a tapestry of scenes
From
my life – all throughout I see
Only
a great love lost and
Dreams
that dies in the forest fires of reality…
There’s
no question of Being
In
the dark cold lifeless aftermath
Of
a forest fire – all around is only ash.
I
shiver in the naked loneliness
Of
the unloved soul. The sum of
The
Parts did not make a Whole.
All
theories are lies designed to suit the Liar.
I
lie in bed in disturbed sleep
Dreaming
of losing myself in
The
cold burnt forest with only
The
silence whirling like the wind…
SKY AND EARTH
I
had to leave you in haste
Leaving
my saree on your bed
Where,
for a few hours, our bodies met.
My saree was a gorgeous blue –
Your
favorite hue, which you unwrapped
To
draw your maps on me, so that the sky
And
the earth communed, and you left
Your
soil on the clouds. I could hear, as we moved
The
key jingling like a bell that chimed;
We
could make love that rhymed
And
afterwards, I wanted to wait awhile
So
that I could hold your hand with a smile.
But
I had to go somewhere
And
so, I did not dare
To
stay, and in haste I wore
A
top and a skirt that floral motifs bore
In
imitation of the flowers of your earth
Full
of spring and its mirth.
In
gratitude I left my key
With
you, as a token of the sky and me.
SHOW
He
is a pale pastel watercolor, and
she,
a charcoal sketch…
by
no stretch of imagination
will
they mix in a palette –
and
yet, I try to fill
my
art galleries…
I
leave all the rest
To
the unashamed imagination
of
what or who should
go
together
in
transience
or
permanence
and
be
a part of
life’s
show.
Beautiful poems ! Just loved them !
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