Two Poems by Mallika Bhaumik
Your voice thin and frail is
the sweetness of Bengal winters in small earthen pitchers of date palm jaggery,
long cravings; sealed.
Your sunken cheeks fill up my laptop screen,
small dose of happiness,
globules of your homeopathy medicine.
The burden of hearing often makes you
I smile back, sad and resigned,
your endless nagging is now a forgotten art.
My adulthood is full of linear logic and
to do lists
in a distant land where smell of home is a part of a memoir,
bubble of a song rising in the heart.
Time has left its ripple on your skin
your breathlessness, dim retina, your age
come as a concern,
I carry your smile as I crawl back into myself
to become a ten year old once more,
checkered skirt and ponytails,
the sound of school bell
and rush of running shoes,
your tall lean frame waving at me,
my endless prattle under the blue umbrella
as we walk back home
in the rain.
Hiraeth is a Welsh word which means a deep longing for a home that might or might not exist
Far away in time, in a quieter world ,
a love letter was written with clay baked words
the winds blowing over the land between the two rivers carried their breath
the whistling desert wind blew away some of the alphabets
some words chased the dandelions
yet it travelled through the eons to reach her address
the brine of the Arabian sea caressed her face
the mulmul laheriyan dupatta rippled over her skin
her lips opened, the warmth of the words probing her mouth
open fields, granaries, spice markets, mosques, minarets dissolved in a while
language sprouted and language died,
cities and monarchs rose and faded with time.
The words unfurled and bloomed
a bed of damask roses,
their musk wafted and filled the room.
An ancient word glowed on her laptop screen
~a pictograph (cuneiform) of a flowerbed.
Cuneiform: Ancient pictorial script of Sumeria, Mesopotamia
mulmul: a type of fabric
lehariyan: a kind of wave like pattern done on fabric found in India