So many years have I left behind, the times of hardship and grind. I have no words to aptly describe, how my fruits of labour turned ripe.
A time was when I called
You Antoni
Then I changed your name to ant
You didn't like the mischief
And called me piggy
But when I still insisted
You poured me a glass of beer
We slept on the same bed
For a fortnight like twin brothers
Your girlfriend wanted
To call the police
But I explained to her that my
Love for ant was a natural recourse
I gave her a book on Oscar Wilde
A perfect heterosexual, if you have one
She understood and finally we three
Slept on a larger bed for three weeks.
Absurd people
Live absurd lives
They live together
in absurdity,
Not knowing
About each others' lives
They quarrel absurdly
And then find peace
In sleeping with bad dreams
To wake up nervously
To live another absurd day.
So many years have I left behind
The times of hardship and grind.
I have no words to aptly describe
How my fruits of labour turned ripe.
Also a little bit of wizard luck
Wiped away darkness and murk
Things did turn awry more oftener than not
I sought old lessons life had taught.
Hit the problem with the hammer on its head
And made it yield to soft love instead.
Ups and downs like hills and valleys
The dark corridors and empty alleys
Are moving parts of life, yours or mine
But the night must end for dawn's sunshine.
(Boudhayan Mukherjee, is a bilingual poet, essayist, and translator with five books of English poetry. Published extensively in newspapers & journals in India and abroad. Taught Creative Writing in English at IGNOU. Awarded the prestigious Sayamagata Literary Award ( 2022). Travelogues deep inside Africa would comprise his next book.)