Five Poems: Pradip Mondal

Pradip Mondal

Fiber of Life

 

I no more regret my vertical limit though many

keep in ken my dwarfish disposition for a cue.

I can now envision a growth of my elements

that no one could notice with eager eyes.

 

I will spread my threads like fibrous roots and

keep on adding newer fibers to anchor my self.

While people still deem me as a dormant cretin,

I’ll start dominating new domains underground.

***

 

 

Nostrum

 

At the end of the day I go to bed musing

I could have lived the day in a worthy way.

Since the inception of my consciousness,

this befalls daily without any deviation.

 

I always dreamt of rotating in a churning pot.

This idea penetrated the mind:

hatred, vice, and disability would then be

separated from my love, virtue, and ability.

 

In the theorem of gastronomy, you can’t prove that

butter is more important than buttermilk.

My followers don’t wish to hold golden carafes; they are

ready to drink the elixir of my lux and love with folded palms.

*** 

 

 

Oxymoron

 

Govt. strives to make the nation drug-free

through anti-drug campaigns.

The union govt. directs all states

to spread awareness.

 

Men has a long fascination for things forbidden

since apples used to grow in the garden of Eden.

While watching the news on TV screen,

whiskey spills off my glass on the tea table.

 

Man can use tea tables for manifold purposes.

The state education ministry directs directorate of higher

education to serve letters to each pedestal for pupils,

to spread more awareness as evening expands for addicts.

 

On red letter days, the host of the programme

announces the name of a known teetotaler to read

out the clichéd anti-drug message

before the students and the staff—both teetotaler and sober.

 

All stretch their right hands while taking the pledge.

Those who are sots always stand in the front line.

Govt. takes pledge to make the nation prosperous by

making it an addiction-free one.

 

Where one can find a better oxymoron than this?

Economists know: nation’s chariot wheels on alcohol.

News anchor announces: the state’s revenue doubles up.

Govt. gears to revamp tariffs from the next fiscal year.

***

 

 

 Calciphile

 

It’ not that all the trees always crave for rain;

some just yearn for a little wetness on the surface.

I fall on the latter category as I can grow like a fern on

a weathered wall or a damp deposit in a humble habitat.

 

Failing to get a clement call, I bet I can

condition myself in any soil or solution.

Since friends are fascinated by my fronds of good manners,

I don’t feel like growing flowers of virtues on my lithe stem.

 

I don’t feel sad for not securing seeds for posterity.

Spreading my tiny wings in zephyr, I contain myself.

***

 

Arboreum

On the soil of good manners, each virtue

grows like a leaf in a basal rosette.

***

Bio: Pradip Mondal was awarded with JRF in English by UGC in 2013. He obtained his Ph. D degree from Visva-Bharati (Santiniketan, India) in 2021. He is an Assistant Professor of English at Lal Bahadur Shastri Govt. P. G. College Halduchaur, Nainital (affiliated with Kumaun University, Nainital, India). He has published more than 20 articles in peer-reviewed journals, besides contributing chapters to 8 edited books till date. Some of his poems have also been published in anthologies and literary e-journals like Suburban Witchcraft (Serbia) and Muse India (India). His edited book (Atlantic Publishers) is forthcoming in 2025.

---

Setu, October 2025