By Rituparna Mukherjee
A VAIN MONSOON Your thoughts make me vain, It is not a kind emotion, I try to look for myself In every verse that inhabits your mouth, Like a stranger, asking for directions In the lanes of an intimate city Littered with cramped shops, Streetlights glimmering in latent desire In your weak, wary eyes. A city dwells in me. You touch it through all seasons With tepid drops of rain Turning it muddy in places, Heaving with warm sighs in others. You knock on random doors at other times, With furious hail and fierce winds, Smashing glass, Seeping through curtains wet, Lying in pools of unquenched ardour, Near my feet, Too tender to be wiped dry. Clouds of longing reign in dirty gutters, Where I send you ruined poetry, Folded neatly in childish boats, Wishing they would travel To your window, Through which you glance in evenings, At the golden redolent skies That stretch between the two of us.
Rituparna Mukherjee is a faculty of English and Communication Studies at Jogamaya Devi College, under the University of Calcutta. She is currently pursuing Doctoral degree in Gendered Mobilities in west African and Afro-Diasporic Literature at IIIT Bhubaneswar. She works as an ELT consultant, translator and ESL author outside of her work and research schedule.
PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL