Bashabi Fraser (Diaspora Dual Identities)

Bashabi Fraser

Suitcase

 

This battered suitcase is my companion of old

Its dents and stains hold stories untold

It has made transnational journeys through years

Defying borders and custodians of fears.

A whiff of jasmine escapes as I lift

The lid under which are memories and gifts -

A temple bell tinkling from a pluralist shrine

A white cotton sari drenched in her silent brine

A flute from a cowherd waking to the muezzin’s call

My school choir’s photo harmonising our hall

A bursting ripe jackfruit beside delectable mangoes

Karabi[1] with madhabi[2] and a bedewed tuber rose

A soft quilted kantha[3] from recycled cloth

Handstitched by Thakuma[4] for my daughter at birth.

Fresh mountain mists wrap tea leaves in a tin

Ma’s songs on a tape, still sweet and serene

A feather from a pigeon floating free from its flight

A string from the intense blue of an ambitious kite

A plate of Sal leaves with teardrops from my stream

An ember from pyres where countless more gleam

A glass from a tea stall sweetened by friends

In interminable addas[5] and debates without end

A neat sheaf of letters in Baba’s elegant hand

Recounting the days I have not yet left behind.

 

The 1st of Baishakh

 

It is New Year today

In my native Bengal

Where I know friends and

Relatives will incessantly call

To seek my Baba’s blessing

And Pishi’s assurance

Of her love’s endurance

In the blossoming of spring

With its fresh beginning.

 

Keep the southern door

Ajar, Gurudeb[6] would say

Let the wind of Baishak

Enter without delay

Let the harbingers rain

Soak the dusty plain

Let the rivers be replenished

Let the meadows be embellished

 

Let the deep roots feel revived

Bring the paddy fields alive

See the mountains respond

To a pulsating bond

Coursing through land and sea

In a dance of unity

That envelops those I love

With a peace from above.

 

My Boat

 

I had considered myself washed ashore long ago

And had built my timber hut with care,

Keeping it warm in winter, cool in summer,

Lighted, airy, well-stocked and comfortable.

 

It was one of many houses

Indistinguishable as I liked it to be

But mine once I entered it -

A world I got lost in willingly.

 

Then one day a storm blew away

The walls that fenced me in

And I saw a white refreshing expanse

Uplifting itself to reach the sky;

I realised that my world had been washed away

Overnight, for there was a call

For me, to leave all and dare.

 

So, I found a boat, and put my all into it -

Me, mine and my life -

And we set forth - for I knew

That the shore was there beyond the blue

Pushed away for the time being

But waiting for me and mine

To build again - an edifice in stone.

 

Bashabi Fraser is an award-winning poet, children’s writer, translator, editor and academic. A transnational writer, her work traverses continents. Her awards include a CBE (2021) for Education, Culture and Cultural Integration, Doctor of Literature Honoris Causa from Swami Vivekananda University (2025), the Indira Gandhi Gold Plaque by the Asiatic Society of India, (2023), UK Bengali Convention Lifetime Achievement Award, 2022 and declared Outstanding Woman of Scotland by the Saltire Society in 2015. She has published 31 books and is widely anthologised as a poet. Bashabi is a Trustee on the Board of Scottish PEN and Hon’y President of the Intercultural Poetry and Performance Library, India.

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[1] Oleander

[2] An evergreen liana with white scented flowers.

[3] Handstitched quilt often made from recycled saris and dhotis that is distinctive of Bengal.

[4] Paternal grandmother.

[5] A Bengali word that indicates an informal conversation amongst a group pf people, usually friends - on diverse subjects, which can go on for hours.

[6] A reference to Rabindranath Tagore; literally it means the divine teacher.

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Setu, April 2025