Mother’s Tongue-lashing at Father and Me

By Shamik Banerjee

"It's summer; hence, each day assumes
an oven's role," my mother tells
us. "See those bone-dry village wells
Or any of our flaccid blooms—

“their soreness is quite evident,
for they stand right beneath the high,
conflagrant skies. So, likewise, my 
entire day and noon are spent

“inside the kitchen. You all know
that very well, yet order tea
two hundred times by tossing me
before the cookstove's kiln-like glow."

One day, I simply went inside 
the kitchen (just to clear my doubt).
Some minutes later, I came out
flesh-moistened, gasping, and half-fried.

Shamik Banerjee resides in Assam with his parents. Some of his recent works will appear in York Literary Review, Willow Review, Thimble Lit and Modern Reformation — to name a few.

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

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International