Like our Mothers
I sometimes dream
the world will live
And the plants will grow
Amid the acid
And the sky will be blue
Or black
And sometimes golden
shaking the birds from their sleep
And there will be a girl
and a boy
Running to catch the stars
shouldering the moon
And there will be
Heroes in the streets
And we will gift them flowers
We will kiss away their masks
And stethoscopes
We will kiss away their sweat
and their ashes as they light the wood
We will kiss
We will never forget them
We will never forget them
like we never forget our mothers
Fairy Tale
I want a fairy tale now
Buildings filled with the slumber of people
Just existing
The neighbour bringing in a new recipe
Because it is her son's birthday
The May sun, cruel
As we go out for a swim
in the chlorine river,
The night,
with a disco
or a pub
Or a tune from somewhere beyond
A triad of notes
Gurgling
As we hold hands
till dawn
On the Elements of Life
You know, we build a story around ourselves. Treat it as something real, give it a name. There's friction. We harness it just like we would do thousands of years ago. Man and fire, the primordial. To cope with the pain we build a story, with walls and sunlight. Brick by brick it grows vast, almost blurring our origins. It dances with us, gets a kick out of it. After a while, when the swansong has died, we stare into the sky and disappear. What remains of our origin is a fabrication, mixing with our fables and animals, our drives and instincts. What remains of us is banter around the dinner table, a shrieking picture with teeth and flesh. But sometimes, when the night takes a break from the darkness, we inhabit the earth again, with the wind and the trees. With our eyes and our breaths. We reclaim our places. And how beautiful it is then, in a rare denial of putrefaction,to wake up with the earth inside us.
Rayan Chakrabarti
English Honours
St. Stephen's College, University of Delhi
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