Bonsai: A Collection of Poems
1Sugar no longer belongs in tea,
only sugar-free,
and the sound of the spoon stirring.
2
The lady of the house,
the lady's kitchen,
gas, mixer, microwave,
the battle of the wok and the spatula.
3
A bottle-gourd vine creeps
through the kitchen roof,
white flowers blooming,
while frogs call out,
ghyangor-ghyang...
4
A harsh, ringing afternoon in Bhadra,
the street hawker
wearing himself hoarse,
calling out his wares.
5
A harsh, ringing afternoon in Bhadra,
ripe hog plums crushed to pulp,
gram-flour fritters and mustard paste
shoved down the throat
by a sharp, puckering sourness,
the taste of our boyhood.
6
Water flowing through the drain,
a fig tree beside it,
and a little farther away,
a plate of rice,
a lump of rice and mashed potato.
7
Darkness descends
over the tops of the bamboo grove.
A sky crowded with stars,
the sound of a fox's footsteps
crunching through fallen leaves.
8
Water hyacinths drift
across the middle of the pond,
and upon their leaves
a spider has woven
its delicate web.
9
Sour curry of ripe shol fish
cooked with green mango,
its more formal name:
amshol.
10
A Hemanta twilight,
a ring of smoke,
and on the electric wire
rows and rows of birds
holding their evening council.
11
I converse with the steps
in the afternoon,
and in their moss-covered bricks
find the memory
of my grandfather.
12
Heavy curtains hang
across doors and windows.
Life, too, has grown heavy.
I find myself remembering
my mother's sari-end,
her anchal.
13
A wall built
to hide nature,
and upon that wall,
a landscape
of nature.
Poetry by sinha murari
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Written on 2026-09-16 at 04:12
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