Arvind Krishna Mehrotra
Arvind Krishna Mehrotra Poems
|2.||Bharati Bhavan Library, Chowk, Allahabad.||3/29/2012|
|3.||Canticle For My Son||3/29/2012|
|4.||Where Will The Next One Come From||3/29/2012|
|5.||Mirza Ghalib In Old Age||3/29/2012|
|7.||On The Death Of A Sunday Painter||3/29/2012|
|8.||To An Unborn Daughter||3/29/2012|
This is about the green miraculous trees,
And old clocks on stone towers,
And playgrounds full of light
And dark blue uniforms.
At eight I'm a Boy Scout and make a tent
By stretching a bedsheet over parallel bars
And a fire by burning rose bushes,
I know half a dozen knots and drink
Tea from enamel mugs.
I wear khaki drill shorts, note down
The number-plates of cars,
Make a perfect about-turn for the first time.
In September I collect my cousins' books
And find out the dates of the six Mughals
To secretly write the history of India.
I see ...