Death

 

As I hurtle down at breakneck speed

In the gigantic roller-coaster…

At one quite unnamed point,

The fear dissipates and I’m thrilled

With the topsy-turvy journey,

The end of the ride, and the prospect

Of finding land beneath my feet.

 

Diptesh Ghosh

 

 

Fireflies and Truth

 

I sit under the deodar tree

Watching the valley far below:

A few fireflies flicker, briefly,

But the bright lights of the valley

Mock at their short-lived brightness.

Far above me,

The million stars,

And the bright moon

Keep their silence.

 

Diptesh Ghosh

 

 

Flight

 

A vast cliff separates you and me.

I cannot go back on the road I’ve come.

By day your home is forbidden,

At night the world keeps you away.

Those like me, without a bridge, have no choice.

When I step into my world of dreams

All the grand canyons cannot part us:

I am superman, I can fly.

 

Diptesh Ghosh

 

 

 

Poetry

 

The dawn is so beautiful

That I’ve forgotten everything:

Even my poetry stays wordless

Like dew-drops on the green oak leaves.

 

Diptesh Ghosh

 

 

Gestures

 

I’ve placed the sweet jasmines, dawn fresh,

By your bedside, in a bowl of water;

They will barely last out this long day.

But all day, brief day, your hours

Will be scented with the sweetness

Of something that is perfect,

Something that is fading fast,

Something only for you.

Diptesh Ghosh

 

 

Fragment

 

In the folds of this book lie the petals

Of what was once a beautiful rose.

She had plucked it from the garden, laughing,

And handed it over to me playfully,

“To remember me when I am not here”…

 

What had been the pride of my garden,

Lies as stiff and motionless

As the pages that have bound it now.

She who had laughed is not here,

But her laughter echoes across the empty room.

 

Where have they all gone, I ask myself,

That fragrant spring, the one who had laughed?

Nothing remains the same, nothing stays.

Our shadow falls and our touch remains

Even when we have gone somewhere else.

 

But in some corner of our battered hearts

There is always spring, where faded roses

Escape from the pages to bloom again.

There she’s always laughing, rose in hand,

Waiting for me to find myself again.

 

Diptesh Chandra Ghosh

 

 

Silver

 

I wake up alone, late at night.

Something silver shimmers and gleams

Outside my dark window;

 

The sleeping world, the row of trees,

The road that leads to the gray mountains,

The leaf-strewn fields, the babbling stream,

The baker’s shop, the temple bells,

All lie bathed and sparkling

In the silver light of the moon.

 

Everything that I ever loved,

All things that have been dear to me,

Wobble in this vast silver sea.

I am now adrift, a lost sailor,

Among the shimmering silver waves.

 

Only the faint sound of music

Playing in some invisible home

Keeps me moored and steady:

 

As if the notes are an anchor

That ties me with unseen strands

To the shorelines of reality.

 

Diptesh Ghosh

Love

 

I cannot see clearly.

You have fogged the windows of my mind

Like after a bath on a winter morning.

I, who should clear the glass with a cloth,

Spend my hours writing your name on it.

Diptesh Ghosh

Time and Love

 

New love tastes like fine Tuscan wine.

You roll it in your mouth gently,

Relishing the Oaken flavors,

The touch of the warm French sun,

Till the sweet grapes lift you to moods

You thought never really existed.

 

New love can be seen from afar:

It sits on you like a silk dress…

Embroidered, a lovely work of art;

New love is always a journey:

Every day in a brand new town,

Fraught with million possibilities.

 

Old love is a different kind of fish.

It tastes like a plain home-cooked meal:

Simple, but it warms and fills you up.

Old love is the frayed cotton dress

You wear when you set out to sleep.

It is soft and smells of happy days.

 

Old love is the purpose of your quests:

When you traveled, your roving feet

Were always leading you to this place…

The familiarity of the boring house,

The narrow walls ringing with laughter,

The need to never travel again.

 

Diptesh Ghosh

Semantics

 

The first rays of morning fall on the yellow leaves:

Each dew drop sparkles like a small diamond…

Or what I imagine a diamond must sparkle like.

 

I have been down with unsolicited sorrow.

Somewhere under my ribs lies a beating heart

Smashed to smithereens with unrequited love:

 

I ought to feel quite terrible, I tell myself.

There is much in the world to brood about:

And while I insist so, some unseen bird,

Breaks passionately into a song

Like his life depended on it.

 

If you think so, or feel so, in the end,

There is not much difference between

The dew drops and the sparkling diamonds.

 

Likewise, when your heart is free to feel,

Sorrows and joys can be quite alike…

Especially when the birds are singing

And diamonds sparkle in the morning grass.

 

Diptesh Ghosh