Wednesday, July 17, 2013

CHARULATA

Soft pillows for comfort, a queenly bed to sleep in. Staying awake night after night, traversing continents that seem to have stepped in between her husband and a cup- of- together coffee which once celebrated greater togetherness. Possessive and whimsical like a torrential downpour. Eyes glued to the cell phone screen, ears plugged deep into a silence of a peaceful ocean. Heart, as bustling, busy, thumping, squeezed- like the clothes the washerwomen torture on the ghats of an ancient river. Maybe a deep black below her eye-line- a blue in her heart, some greenery at the sight of your prize not in touch for a week, some grey when he does. Some yellow jaundice in your words, some paleness of the moon every night.

5 comments:

Abin Chakraborty said...

We need a generic name for these.prose-poem wouldnt do.but whatever we call these, these are getting really good.

Susie Clevenger said...

There is such bitter sadness in this...You have told of the division between husband and wife so powerfully. The ending is fantastic!!

sayan said...

Thank you Susie Clevenger...it is actually inspired by a film of the same name by Satyjit Ray...

Anonymous said...

its all but a virtual madness which is blown away by a tempest of thoughts in the myriad sea of emotions..

miranda said...

its all but a virtual madness which is blown away by a tempest of thoughts in the myriad sea of emotions..