Goutam Ghosal

Goutam Ghosal

Poet, critic, translator, Goutam Ghosal, D.Litt., is Professor of English, Visva-Bharati, Santiniketan. A leading interpreter of Sri Aurobindo’s literature, psychology, philosophy and sociological thoughts, he was the chief editor of The Visva-Bharati Quarterly from 2005 to 2007. His major books include The Rainbow Bridge: A Comparative Study of Tagore and Sri Aurobindo, Sri Aurobindo’s Prose Style, Sri Aurobindo and World Literature, Notes on Prayers and Meditations, Notes on the Renaissance, Indian Literarture: Points of View and Magic Mirror and Other Poems. Ghosal has published more than two hundred papers and articles in various journals, especially on Sri Aurobindo and other Indian English poets. His other areas of interest are Shakespeare, Rabindranath Tagore, Stephen Crane and nineteenth century British and American literature. He has lectured in various Indian and foreign Universities.

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Two Poems by Goutam Ghosal

Goutam Ghosal

Thy Feet, Rose 

I’ve grown a secret lake of loneliness
bearing images of the lost days and nights…
a boy walks alongside the rippling river,
spots of light from the dark on the other side,
the dark crematory
where Charnok had stopped three years
before moving eastward.
That was where it all began ages ago…
shadows have grown taller
across the lake, and I’ve lost Thy smiles within my heart
 that had once made all my strength…
 Immortal Rose, Thy feet are still my hope.
 lean on my breast
 press there with Thy moon-gold feet
 and let me reach to those shores of Light.

The Slow Pilgrim

Ages have rolled away

 like big white birds

winging leisurely across the grey vast

yet nothing or little moved ahead

as if the legs were stuck up,

roped from behind

the sun came up and the sun went down

making wonderful twilights

leaving enough vibes 

to walk the pilgrim track.

Remember the boat ride 

on the calm waters of a great river?

the burning pyres at Monikarnika reflecting on the river

and the twilight zooming in from all sides?

a cry came floating through the evening fog:

“Light the fire!”

alas the fire was never lit…

only speeches blurred all, the speeches of a tourist,

who doesn’t see, but speaks!

Setu, October 2018