Numbers Poem by BASAB CHAUDHURI

Numbers --
carefully saved.
They belong to relatives, friends, house-helps, doctors, nurses, care-givers, cooks, cleaners, drivers --
and so many centres supplying workmen and women.
They exist for years.
This morning I was going through the contact list:
Amal - he died three years ago;
Bijoy - he left home and did not return;
Dipankar - he had dementia and died a month ago;
Alo - committed suicide;
Subimal - went to US to spend time with his son and didn't come back.

Their numbers are stored
although they are no more.
These numbers were 'real' once,
now in imagination.

I hear voice from a distant land.