Tag: Ananda Purasakr

AMALKANTI*

Amalkanti is my friend,
We had been at school together.
He came late to class every day, lessons unprepared.
When asked verb-declensions, 
He gazed at the window in such amazement, 
That we felt sorry for him.

Some of us aspired to be teachers, some, doctors, others, lawyers.
Amalkanti didn’t want any of that.
He aspired to be sunshine.
The blushing sunshine after the rains, in the late-afternoon of cawing crows,
Sunshine that lingers on the leaves of the rose-apple and bell fruit
Like a momentary smile.

Some of us became teachers, some, doctors, others, lawyers.
Amalkanti couldn’t become sunshine.
Today, he works in a dark printing press.
And he visits me from time to time;
Drinks a cup of tea, chats a little, then he says, “I’ll be off.”
I see him to the door.

The one among us who is a teacher today,
Could easily have been a doctor,
The one who aspired to be a doctor,
Would have also done well as a lawyer.
Somehow, we all got our wishes, all except Amalkanti.
Amalkanti couldn’t become sunshine.
Musing and musing, musing and musing
Upon the sun’s unflawed radiance, 
He had once aspired to become sunshine.

*(lit. “unflawed radiance”; also used as a name)