Tag: Manash Bhattacharjee
An archaeologist in Greece unearths Aristotle’s
Tomb; others dispute the evidence.
If Aristotle’s ideas are consulted, the archaeologist
Needs to prove, the tomb’s where he claims it,
Not anywhere else. If that is too much,
He would fail the philosopher’s test.
Archaeology asks for proof,...
RefugeesI know a thing or two
about refugees –As a child I heard father
say, “We were sleeping
in the place we thought
was our country, till
the siren rang at dawn --
by dusk everyone learnt
how to spell refugee”The sun abandoned all,
an exodus of ants...
Independence Day
(15th August, 1947)The day had turned out to be
A feast for vultures
Every Muslim and Hindu body
Was Parsi in deathThe gods fled the streets of bones
They left Kabir’s country desolateWater partitioned blood,
Blood partitioned water,
Families partitioned gold,
Map partitioned memory,No one sang...
Exile“I rested my mouth on your memory”
~ Yannis Ritsos, from Diaries of ExileNight arrives like a cart
You push it with motionless hands
There is darkness
But no star
When you whistle
There is no bird that hears you
Ritsos the poet of Greece
Is locked...
Evening LightBrave bat in a bowler hat
Blood shot eyes question
What time does this light
Depart?The light descends elsewhere
Its shadow rising here
The bat changes into an owl
Dreaming of MinervaA pealing scab
Pain blooming pollens
Turmeric twilight
In her mortar and pestleBring me a balm
From...
An open tunnel
Swarming with books
Slow pavement
Walking with a pause
Books stall you
Eyes stalked by titles
The feet fettered
You miss the women
An old book-fool
Lost in the dead poet
As life passes by
Ah bulletproof poems
By that Nabarun
He shot at his poems
They did not die
Survived...
As I leave for Calcutta
I think the city
Always that other city
Its river Ganga
Always my other river
Howrah Bridge
What a colonial cradle
A Raj suspended
Kipling's imperial joy
Hoogly below
Flows older than time
Soothing hearts
River rowed with song
Of undying love
God familiar boatman
With a name
Now none...
"I wonder sometimes where people store all their different faces."
~ Trina Nileena BanerjeeThe face he wears every morning
Reminds him of his mother
Combing his hair before school.
The face he carries in the streets
And in his workplace
Where every glance cuts him
To...
(Homage to Karl Marx)Nabarun Bhattacharya
(23 June 1948 – 31 July 2014)On the floor of a slaughterhouse
A butcher’s leg slips in the blood
Crows go raucous on the tinned roof
The cats outside sleep sniffing bloodHead severed from the body
The sound of...
For Najwan DarwishA lucky three-year-old
Is Saher* Abu NamousIf Gaza didn’t explode
The world would have
Known nothing of himNow he is all in reports
One among the victims
Dead like a nipped budSaher will not see dawn
It will not dawn on him
Dawn buried...
To Steven O’ BrienGrandfather Heaney dug deep
Into his country’s soil
Another man unlike him left home
To burrow through an alien forest
In search of enemiesThe alien pastures were green
But the scent of blood heavy
In dogged, wet boots
Flanked by Rhine and Reich
The...
Many times I passed by your house
On my way to see my grandmotherI paused before the large iron gates
Expecting to catch a glimpse of youGrandmother said you are formless
It puzzled my mind of teeming idolsYou can see everything without...
Gabriel Garcia Marquez is a beautiful name. It resonates with such a feeling more so because the name immediately reminds us of the man’s imagination, the crushing beauty of his stories that mesmerized audiences reeling from the brilliant but...
The London Magazine interviews Manash Bhattacharjee, author of the poetry collection ‘Ghalib’s Tomb and other poems’ to give us a glimpse at the inspiration behind his collection.
When did you start writing poetry?I wrote my first poem, a very...
To Upal DebHe wasn’t a blackboard
Framing flightless birds
Not a classroom figure
Offering the curriculum
To rows of bored facesHe sat on his bed facing
The window Van Gogh
Painted a bit differently
Barely allowing the light
To disturb a perverse air
Issuing not from books
Piled in...
Ghalib’s Tomb and other poems by Manash Bhattacharjee will soon be joining Goodbye Crocodile by Conor Patrick and The London Magazine Diary 2014 as part of The London Magazine Editions publications. This will also mark the first poetry collection...
To Fady JoudahI was waiting at the platform
For a train to Calcutta
In trepidation of leaving her
Stranded in my dreamsI remembered my mother who
Was waiting to open
The door...
She walks past the wave
Of curious glances
An apparition eluding
Light and desire
Everything she hides from
Trembles in her body
She remembers the lures
In every street
But no street will ever
Remember her
Only the walls and the mirror
Engrave her silence
Her memory remains buried
Among blind objects
Certain...