ISSUE SIX: December, 2020

RITUALS

by MOINAK DUTTA

Morning

There had been beautiful autumn mornings
When waking up from dreamy childhood slumber hearing my father’s radio 
Blaring ‘ pratyahiki’ had been a routine thing,

Then going out to the backyard 
Right there where mother stood under that shiuli tree 
Collecting tiny starlets of white flowers, 

I got drenched in dew 
And the mist of autumn would drape me .

Evening

Evenings at our little abode at that riverside town 
Had curious visitors –
The traveling cake seller with a huge black tin box on his head
Had been like the pied piper,
Mythical , alluring,

Then there was the jhalmuri wallah,
His practiced hand could conjure up lip smacking puffed rice bowls,

After that that man from South
Selling dosa.

My mother’s lighting up of diya 
Always brought that mixture of varied fragrance – of incensed sticks, camphor.

Now after so many years,
Getting into the folds of my semi urban existence,
I still hanker after those little things of evenings.

Afternoons

Drawing pencils 
Paper planes,
Comic strips,
Chocolate Ice-creams,

And …
That beautiful girl in the red tunic .

MOINAK DUTTA is a published poet and fiction writer and a teacher. He has two literary and romantic works of fiction to his credit namely 'Online@offline' and 'In search of la radice'. His third work of fiction will be published soon. He loves travel and nature photography. He is interested in creating video poetry or poetry films. His debut video poetry / poetry film 'I think I love twilight' has been accepted in Lift Off film festivals across the globe and has been enlisted in some others too. He lives in Kolkata, India with his wife, son and a pet dog.