The Bride from Bengal

The shy bride peeps truantly
through the parted palkee drapes
At the lazy paddy fields swaying
soft to the silent breeze.
To the smooth horizon
bordered in muted green.
The deep hum of the bearers
‘haiha ho! Haiha ho!’
Mingles with nature and blankets
her softly
against the early morning chill

So ‘cozy’ she feels, reminds of
her mother’s lap
Where she would lie, in sadness
and tranquility
When a sense of bliss would
descend on her.
Filling the empty spaces,
and driving the fears
away from her virgin mind.

Allowing the glow of warmth to
spread over her
Till her body and her soul
would throb in unison
And she would feel the life force
wash over her
In wave after wave creating music
of her innermost rhythm.
Now, her hand wanders to
her cheek
And finds a fresh rivulet streaming
in earnest
Over her face, which she thought
had gone dry
With her tears spent as she
hugged tight
Turning her mother’s aanchal
Into a soggy night

As if the monsoon had
arrived
And drenched all who were
caught unaware
“Maa, Maa go” a
tiny whisper
escaped her compressed lips

As she tries to keep her emotions
bottled within
But her heart wrenches in
pain untold
With her mind flying to the
days now gone
Searching wild for the
comforting zone
Missing the coolness of her
touch

and the softness of her fingers
to the inner peace she had felt
as she had laid on her mother’s lap.

Penned Circa 1999 © Anirban Sarkar