Dr. Piku Chowdhury teaches in a post graduate Government aided college. She is a research guide, editor, author, painter, translator, singer, poet, photographer and mental health facilitator.
THE SUBTERRANEAN
At a juncture you would pause
With a vast stretch of arid sand engulfing your route
And you would turn back.
If you see a river behind
Instead of the vistas traversed
What would you say?
A mystic silver stretch of fluid
With suggestions of oblivion,
Secret sweeps of silver tails
With tales of yore and gore and sore
And much more, perhaps with
Hints of salt and petrichor.
All the words and clever designs
Inundated by serpentine
Bends of river and you are lost
In that spot of helpless quiet.
Strain your ears and catch the notes
Bubbling in the deepest crevice of heart
May be they will tell you now
How rivers can flow beneath a desert
With redemption of the subterranean.
***
FIRE AND ICE
Burning coal on your tongue
Would emit smoke with stench of pain
You would breathe out smoky tales
Of lies and pretense and deceptions.
Icy caverns in darkness clad
In layers beneath the frenzied phrase
Preserve the silent truth forgotten
To be exhumed at the final showdown.
***
UNDERWATER
They say you don’t hear a word
When you are underwater
A strange lull surrounds your brain and ears
And senses, escapes, hopes and fears.
Pack up the sun and stars and cloud
Pack up every resolve loud
Pack up self-image in shroud
Illusions of cruises, shore,
Verdant gardens, petrichor;
Let’s just drown to icy depths
Of silent voices – ghostly, strange
Floating weeds and crabs deranged;
Madness in the gleaming scales
Your vanity hit by swishing tails.
There you hear a silent song
Of wonder, magic and meraki,
May be you then stare at you
And find your stranger reality.
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