But forget not your sister,
Your lovely sister
Who grew up playing with you,
Who kept you calling with love
And so much so affection,
Remained hungry but fed up you first,
When asked about the new clothes,
Asked she to give to you
And it’s sorry to hear that
You have forgotten, forgotten her,
Your dear sister,
You remember her sometimes,
Give time to her sometimes.
Leave you the drama ofColonialism, post-colonialism?
Churi, churiAnd passing through the lanes of the housesWith the words, churi, churiFor mothers and sisters,The Muslim sellers in lungi and kurtaAnd sporting the beards,Churi, churi, kanch ki churi,Bangle, bangle, glass-banglesAnd the women in the villages and townshipsCalling, churi-churi, O Churiwallah,Come, come here,They calling with the hands raisdAnd they coming back,Coming back with the words,Churiwallah,…
The owl,The owl sitting atopThe birdBizarre and grotesqueLooking strange.The owl ogling.Ogling withThe big-big eyesAnd seeingUnder the nightly mistAnd fog,The owl bizarre and grotesque.
My love,My love?Red Rose…Just like you,Like you.
The ghost of Thomas GrayHaunts him here.Thomas Gray’s owl,Jayanta Mahapatra’s lizard and scorpion.
On the waysOf life,A loner,Am ILoningOn the waysOf life.A lonerIn my lifeAnd the world,A loner,Am ILoningAnd loningOn the ways.
