The HarmoniumI watch houses with kohl-eyed windows Ferns in tubs a geranium grows in a solitary pub In autumn, we are content with the maroon clouds that hung in our ribcage symmetrically paired We are talking less again than what we have decided before the birth of fire Every fallen leaf in autumn hits the ground like our fingers in sleep They touch gently my twenty-four ribs – one rib every hour. It is a feeble music, as if I am an old harmonium ***
In a ZooStanding near the shore I find sea is a prehistoric animal and it is blind Distorted spectacles move up and down palm trees, human beings, conch shells, incomplete footprints and a few colonial buildings and vessels The sea does not see anything It feels the small things to sense the merchant route and happiness of a submarine The shoreline extends far beyond the cage Sea is fastened to the sky and vastness is its bondage ***
the mirrorStanding in front of a mirror I see a century-old golden-yellow oil painting There, an adolescent is searching for a playmate in a huge mustard field I curse him. ***
Sekhar Banerjee is a bilingual poet. He has three collections of poems and a monograph on an Indo-Nepal border tribe to his credit. His poems in English have been published in literary worldwide. Recently, he has been selected as the Author of the Month by Setu - a bilingual monthly journal published from Pittsburgh, USA.
Read more poetry on Bengaluru Review: ‘In Bronxville, I meet a banana tree’: Six poems by Devi Sastry ‘And we smelt like guavas’: Five poems by Nilim Kumar ‘You may see the city slowing down’: Five poems by Malcolm Carvalho