My Permanent Address
Somsubhra Banerjee
My Permanent Address
As the incessant raindrops lashed,
lashed onto the thirsty land,
petrichor, that musky smell,
enveloped all my senses.
Ahh, there, those thin rays of sunshine,
peeping through the cloud, those golden beams,
creating a mystical moment
for me to behold, feasting on the spectacle.
Alas, the golden goodness, slowly, went hiding
behind those cumulonimbi and cirri,
my heart, miserable, tearing away the moment before ecstasy,
my eyelids, drooping into a slumber.
Just then, like a sudden thunderous shockwave,
jetting through my spines,
a few feet away from my footsteps,
I saw your kohl-lined eyes,
and those became my permanent address.
The Orphan Plant
Perched under the leafy refuge,
of the century-old banyan tree,
learning, growing, was this unknown plant,
an orphan, scrambling for support, a companion,
no one near it looked like it,
teary-eyed it kept searching for someone,
someone alike, that it could sense as a mom, as a dad, a friend,
it kept looking around, smiling, trying to befriend,
befriend those fellow plants, the grasses, the flowers,
But,
alas, there was none, none looked at him, none sensed his existence,
the world seemed like a big black hole,
sucking in all those little pockets of hope, seeming harsh and heartless,
not a second to look at its pain, the suffering,
the want to succor someone, who’s different, who’s unique,
the banyan tree kept looking on, on the effort of this little guy,
soon the heatwaves began, the rains lashed, managing to drown his heart,
managing to break him mentally and physically,
when the eyes, the heart of the great tree, finally,
fell on this little plant, crying and trying to survive,
and he knew he had to save this kid, knowing,
that he had fewer years in him,
knowing how heartbroken the kid would be when he’s gone,
yet, his heart gave in,
without a thought, he took him under his leafy wings,
nurturing him like a kid of his, his real kid,
and the orphan, devoid of love now found a parent,
and the parent, devoid of a child,
adopted one!
Somsubhra Banerjee is an IT engineer, born and brought up in India, and currently perched in Munich; trying to find time to scribble some words every day. I love the smell of fresh rain and staring into the sky and old buildings. I have published short fiction and poetry across various magazines. @Shombnrji