ANTARA BANERJEE
A Dark Sob
Huddled,
in the farthest
corner,
Of the dark musty
room...
Sat an uncanny
shadow,
whimpering and
sobbing...
alone...
In tatters, in
tears…
Her bony face
hidden
in her skeletal
palms
In despair...
Her ribs
knocking against
her knees...
As she drew her
legs,
in a tight knot,
close to her
chest.
The nauseating
reek of death
Pervaded the
room...
It used to be a
cheerful,
Sunny, bustling
home,
Not so long
ago...
The pestilence
Had killed all
her dear ones
They were taken
One after the
other
by the cursed
disease.
She had spent
sleepless nights,
tending to their
dying bodies...
trading her life
with the
contagion
in exchange of
the last comfort
she could provide
them.
How could she
leave them to
die?
Though it was a losing
battle
to begin with ...
It wasn't a
choice at all.
She remained with
the dead...
Living...
And dying with
them.
But where were
they,
when the
pestilence claimed her?
They were nowhere
to be seen.
The ether,
that had escaped
her putrid mouth,
couldn't leave...
It sulked... And
stayed...
Again!
It floated down
to her favourite
corner
and huddled
there...
with empty eyes.
She bemoaned her
lost life...
Her lost ones...
Death had
released them all
But her...
She lingered
in the bedroom...
Wearing a mask...
Still believing
that her family
was
exercising that
new found fad
called ‘social
distancing’…
it seems,
it applied to
blood ties too!
She honestly
believed,
they would be
back soon...
That the sun
would return
to the bedroom
windows
The birds would
Chirp on its
sills...
And the darkness
would be gone!
Little did she
know
that her house
was now called
‘haunted’!
She was to remain
in that musty
darkness
with death and
its reek.
The living would
avoid it
Even the dead
would visit no
more.
She was cursed to
isolation,
for she deserved
to be punished…
She had loved too
much...
Hoped too much...
Too long...
too deep...for
her own good.
(c) Antara Banerjee, 2020
Trust Me
Love,
The most precious
and abundant
giveaway of
nature
is found in all
places
that remain
untouched
by human
avarice...
Sometimes,
In the claws
Of the hungry
lioness
who refrains from
her prey,
a pregnant doe,
in whose torn
belly
she finds
an unborn
child...
At times,
It flows
from the breasts
Of a medic,
who nestles
the child
of a dead enemy
close to her
bosom,
and nurses it to
life
in the middle of
a raging war...
It lies
in the coffin of
the dead
over which
green saplings
grow...
...in the
hardened earth
softened by
showers of
monsoon rain
In the song of
the cuckoo
In the wake up
call
Of the alarm
clock...
There is love
in the aroma of
freshly baked
bread
...in the cool
swig
of water
that quenches
a parched gut...
In the air that
blows the
fragrance of
the mountain
blossoms
to the villages
at the
foothills...
Trust me,
Love,
the most precious
and abundant
giveaway of
nature
is found in all
places
that remain
untouched
by human
avarice....
(C) Antara Banerjee
An Ode To My
Readers
I rather
appreciate
your patience
I ramble too
much…
Just like
Vincent…
I am deluded and
pained
I might bite off
your ears too!
(Van Gogh bit off
his fiance’s ears)
The swirly,
sizzling sunflowers
Are difficult to
bear
I do not know
to what
consequence my ink flows…
There is no
peace, no comfort,
Not for a single
moment,
But I am glad you
still bear on…
This is an ode to
you
For once,
thankfully,
It is not about
me.
I keep very busy
of late
documenting my
insanity
but my disjointed
songs are for you
I am tired…
But my pens
remains relentless
Slashing, seeking
and slaying
the ogres of
Dante’s hell…
I feel like a
creature of hell myself
Sometimes.
But you never
cease to indulge me still…
This is an ode to
you
my readers, my
friends!
You are god’s
gifts to me
Keep that love,
I am going to
need it
Till the end.
Amen!
© Antara Banerjee
ANTARA BANERJEE
ANTARA
BANERJEE is best
known for her two books, 'The Goddess in Flesh' and 'To be a Woman'. Recipient
of the prestigious Sanmarg Aparajita Award 2019 as a Young Achiever for her
contribution in the field of literature, she is Masters in Image and
Communication from Goldsmiths College, London and a graduate from the
Presidency College of Kolkata. Apart from being a novelist, she is also a poet
in three languages. She writes verses in English, Bangla and Hindi. In a
language that is marked by boldness and passion at the same time, she
endeavours to transport her readers to a world that can only be described in
words, a world that is shrouded in charming intrigue. Because, words can evoke
imagination, that is constrained by nothing!
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