MOLOY BHATTACHARYA Poems

A procession with blaring music
The inebriated eyes blithe and insane
Staggers and stammers as in soiree
Jostling the revellers belching
...

I
My bike was stolen
Under the sun, from the crowd
From the row stood so many
...

I
You are a teacher
In a classroom
Packed with students
...

In the darkness of night
From their graves
Rose the children,
Not seen by faces
...

In the open beach
Wide and sandy
Scented and windy
They appeared
...

The street looks deserted
No sign of life and activity
From the threatening chasm
Emerges the worms and insects
...

It was a promise
She made to the young lover
To dance with him
If a red rose brought for her.
...

The semi-bald manly figure
Always arrives ahead of school time
As runs a bullet from a trigger
The lessons he eyes, look a painted rhyme
...

He kills them one by one
So cheaply with his cruel hands
It is his daily job, the butcher.
From the cote are dragged poor chickens
...

The weather is foul today
As if they sense the agony
Of separation from a group
Which was more than a family
...