Nabanita Sengupta teaches in an undergraduate college and
beyond the college hours, enjoys dabbling in creative and critical pursuits. An
academic, translator and creative writer, she has been variously published in
India and abroad. Her latest publication is an anthology of poems, In-between
Selves.
Amritsari
Tales
The gates looked on,
twelve ancient sentries
as the city changed contours
time-travelling across
the charmed gullis of
an old world harmony,
through a tenuous peace
tentative tightrope walk
till blood took over the lanes
Love, abhor, peace, unrest
riding upon the sea-saw of time.
Each moment that blood spoke,
the land of panch nad* rose,
this city changed contours
and the gates looked on.
Yet, it's heart throbbed
wrapped in velvety affection
the epicentre
Indestructible, infinite,
unsullied
no wolves of suppression,
no crazy gunshots
or corpse filled trains
or blows that painted
Golden temple red
could pluck out
its warm, throbbing core
In its gullis,
across thick creamy lassi
and musky smell of vadis
love oozed
ancient walls awaited crumbling
making space for new
the city changed contours
like a trendy fashionista,
and the sentries looked on….
*5 rivers of Punjab
Kolkata
- a timescape
Trams carry time
upon its slow moving wheels,
lazily cutting through the city
roads
bewildered by the pace
of the world around.
I see dreams being sold
in second hand books
and coffee house
dipped in nostalgic yellow
where youth and age meet
over long, unending
conversations,
in the fertility rites of
birthing
words immortal
Oh my beloved city!
Lazily flow Ganges
just as your arms wrap me
amid all turmoils
and I seek to
snuggle in the warmth
that only you can offer
In lanes and bylanes
I walk
as I discover my muse
in your vulnerability
in your strength
in your art
in your poetry
and rediscover myself
in the maze
of lost threads
of an organic You!
Delhi
Dreams
A part of my soul
loiters around
in the city roads
in junk jewellery
elephant printed kurits
fixed price sweaters
in makeshift shops
sau ka ek*
a promising cry to
millions on stipend
beyond home.
In a dream song
I roam the city libraries
or sunday daryagunj market
where books by kilos find
way into canvas bags
Or in the walks along ridges
unkempt nature's bounty
like exuberant youth
pulls us into serious
conversation
of irreverence and youthful dare
cradle of all revolution
pockets of life, all varied,
carry anxieties of performances
floating in from all across
a metropolitan melting pot
*a popular cloth hawkers' cry in
Delhi markets, meaning one for ₹100.
No comments :
Post a Comment
We welcome your comments related to the article and the topic being discussed. We expect the comments to be courteous, and respectful of the author and other commenters. Setu reserves the right to moderate, remove or reject comments that contain foul language, insult, hatred, personal information or indicate bad intention. The views expressed in comments reflect those of the commenter, not the official views of the Setu editorial board. рдк्рд░рдХाрд╢िрдд рд░рдЪрдиा рд╕े рд╕рдо्рдмंрдзिрдд рд╢ाрд▓ीрди рд╕рдо्рд╡ाрдж рдХा рд╕्рд╡ाрдЧрдд рд╣ै।