Poetry: Moinak Dutta

Moinak Dutta
Just before going away
Just before going away to catch that train
She turned back and flashed a smile,
The underground station entry was only few paces away,
People were rushing towards it,
There must have been a train downtown soon,
I was watching her going away,
As if I was watching the last scene of a celebrated movie-
There must have been a background score running,
Something bearing a sad tune, befitting her going away,
I was watching that spectacle,
Heart wrenching , poignant, musical,
Her hair tossing over her shoulders
Like brown fur carelessly thrown,
Her lips moving slowly , might be they were
Saying in whispering tone her goodbye or prayers,
Was not she waving her hand, like friends do when they part
At the end of a long journey together?
That yellow lamp post that stood beside her
Like a guard mute must be glowing all the more
To cast a definitive cinematic brilliance and luminosity
To her departure, her going away;

Just before going away
She left a strong moving picture
Slow, graphic, unputdownable one.

Our love is like that good old jar of pickle
We keep it like a cherished possession,
A bit of it can  send shooting down
Our system a flurry of sensations varied,
Hot, fiery, pungent, sweet, lemony, orangy, juicy,
And we keep yearning for more knowing too much
Of that  can make our tongues insensitive to taste,
And a little can not we leave as our only savoured thing.

Our love is like that good old jar of pickle
And we keep it nice by placing that jar under warm sun.

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