Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού
Lost tune / Mridula Bhattacharya
Autumn morning full of memories
Returns to the cycle of the menstrual
However, there is no smell of that childhood autumn
That childhood heart awakened in the morning light
The cold air outside the window
Bb. filled the mind
Deep in the distance are the petals growing in the vast lotus
Shefali’s smile dripped on the mist-wet Durbar’s body.
These are now blurred lines on yellow leaves.
Everything is lost in time
In the piles of garbage scattered all around,
Lost on the steep concrete wall.
Eye-stealing sun in the morning window, morning
Golden rays, take the place of a thousand questions
Diary pages filled with unanswered dumb words.
Sick heat / Mridula Bhattacharya
Spread throughout the body day and night
The incorporeal illusion of eternal love.
Time family life livelihood everything
Zeros and voids in the ledger.
Unseen shadows revealed in magical light
All around, constantly life and death with hunger
The desired body hastily steps into the pyre.
Folklore is a movement of human diversity
Writing history in the frenzy of creation in the sick heat.
Mridula Bhattacharya.
Silchar Assam
