By Kiriti Sengupta
A Place Like Home
Lights turned off,
three glasses retire
as the bar closes.
The first stands upright,
the other upside down,
another lies horizontal.
.
For last few hours
the crystals held liquor,
ice, scent and comfort.
They also witnessed
eyes that spoke volumes
while lashes refused
to flutter.
.
The pub reopens
the next day
to the riff of unrest.
.
Observance
1
Visitors, who checked in
to see my father post-surgery,
appeared stressed.
After his discharge several came home.
Eyes moistened, they wished him Godspeed.
All of us except Baba knew…
Ma informed him months later.
.
No one pays a call anymore.
Three decades…
2
Tittle-tattle halts.
The mother waves a goodbye
as the school bus sets off.
.
Both these poems are excerpted from Kiriti Sengupta’s collection, Rituals (March 2019, Hawkal Publishers), with permission from the author
.
Kiriti Sengupta is a poet, editor, translator, and publisher from Calcutta. He has published eleven books of poetry and prose and two books of translation and co-edited five anthologies. Sengupta is the chief editor of the Ethos Literary Journal.
.
PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL.
Borderless 