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Poetry

Poetry by Anasuya Bhar

DUSK
The line of dusk makes itself visible
Not in orangish yellow, but in sullen grey, 
And confused white – 
I yearn towards my tea,
Sip in its golden warmth,
Feel it surging down my parched throat
Along the cold tissues. 
It wizens me -- 
Making me quietly aware 
Of all the days gone by
And how slowly my own sun 
Has passed its noon
And is veering towards its dusky route,
Mostly in grey abandon – 

CODES
There are codes
Unsaid arrangements
Making you act, talk and move
In a pattern specific
Rendering facile, redundant, peripheral
The presence of the other,
Called the outsider,
Who seems to intrude 
Into your closed circles
Of intimacy or conspiracy.  
It is the codes
That determine loyalty and staying – 
Beyond which, there is hardly any saying

DISCOVERY
Again and again
Into the cesspool 
Of confusion, desire and hurt,
Of misgivings and disbeliefs too, 
Sinks the sad heart – 
Until one discovers how
The deliverer is the destroyer. 
Again and again 
One realises
The slips so made and,
In the clarity
One perceives
The dynamics of play. 

Dr. Anasuya Bhar is an academic teaching English literature in St. Paul’s Cathedral Mission College, Kolkata, India. She would also want to be known as a poet.

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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

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