Meeting The Proustite Poem by Sudipta Bhattacharyya

Walking down the filthy claustrophobic
Lanes I reached that forbidden place,
Where you wiped out my tears mixed
With the dust of the gentlemen's streets.
Your practised hands held me close
Between your soft breasts, you embraced
Me tightly as if I suffocated in that dark room.
I went to you to gratify my physical hunger
Without caring the so-called gentlemen's streets,
The so-called hypocrite polished persons.

I was quenching my thirst for hunger, too forbidden.
Suddenly a little child came out crying from outside.
Getting my arms free from your hands
I came outside by the street wiping out my tears.
I saw thousands shrikes & agony of the orphans.