Prose In Poem Poem by Deepta Protik Osman

The nightly light of artificiality was above me
Khata, a chup-chap
Seeing it should I wear on head, a cup.
What chobi will be eti.
Lekha’s chobi
Starting with English a-b
Why too small.
Ami, eto eta
Keno eto kiddy.
Then frp, bhetor to out, chup-chap.
A board of green was up
On table stood kalam,
Went and dhire, dhire, grabbed it.
Lekhi in this process: ‘You see what did he did to me. Not shabdafull chobi, then what chobi I think. Is he chup or not. Can you ask me. I don’t do the rest.’
After the lekha
Developed one rekha.
One way to call passing,
To much paper wasting.