Two Poems: Shakti Chattopadhyay

The Girl Named Mungri

With many rocks it has covered the path
The tiny stream that flows past the heart
Across it, houses by a linseed farm
If only you had known the girl named Mungri
You’d like it if you knew how the breeze
Suddenly makes her bunched up hair fly
Whispering rain, with the flowers dropping
Pollen, the distant mountain-woods of teak
It’s not building a home in another’s mind
Nor opening the moon’s doors and windows
The tiny stream that flows past the heart
Across it, houses by a linseed farm
If only you had known the girl named Mungri

A Letter

You’ve left home, since my letter’s been returned
You’re not there, the house stands, with a rusted lock
The peon has brought the letter back – for you’ve left
You must have found another house at a fair price
Send the address, how many rooms, is there enough light?
Have you put the plants in the veranda, do they bloom?
Tell me all, write me in your crooked script
A letter, it won’t be returned, I’m alive

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