The Man With Light Poem by Sanjib Saha

As dusk fell, the darkness
from the mango grove across would slowly creep,
Climbing up the tall coconut tree,
And through the leaves,
the gentle breeze would sway,
Veiling the footprints on the dry courtyard.

We'd wash our hands and feet
and sit down to study.
Mother would head to the kitchen, beyond the southern veranda.
The kerosene lamp's soft glow would dance across her face.
Our veranda's hurricane lamp
would flicker,
As darkness played hide and seek in the courtyard.

I'd open my books,
trying to read the trembling letters.
The road to the right was pitch black;
The jungle behind would stir,
We'd shiver with fear
at the hooting owls.
The darkness near the pomegranate tree would swirl,
Enveloping our minds
and bodies in an ethereal presence!

We'd look up at the sky,
yearning for a glimmer of light.
The stars twinkled,
and we'd stretch out our hands.
When Mother called
from the kitchen,
We'd rush to sit
before our plates of rice.

Before stepping into the dark well, Mother would ask Father,
'Show her some light,
or she'll be afraid.'

We still fear the darkness,
Constantly searching for someone to illuminate our path.

— Sanjib Saha