Afternoon Poem by BASAB CHAUDHURI

Most are dry,
only the waist elastics are still wet.
He has reached the other side of the bamboo pole,
his ducks will return soon.
A humid day,
this time is pleasant though -
for me.
Plants need water twice this time,
quite a lot becomes vapor.
Smell of coal tar comes from the road,
workmen work the whole day,
even during nights.
Afternoons used to be playtimes
during my childhood,
the green field remain idle now -
no one comes,
they are busy - elsewhere.
From early morning to the dead of night -
so many hours
so many colors
so many feelings
ups and downs -
then and now,
from a simple upbringing
to a complex labyrinth -
----
an afternoon slowly embraces darkness.