IN MY OTHER LIFE I SWAN

by Sampurna Chattarji

Arterial      highway

   clogged  with  cars

   across  grey  water

   khaki    uniforms

   lay  barriers

The  road  will   be

widened   one   day

high  above  the

green  water  pipeline

    the  local  rushes

through  the  sky

obscured  by  haste

obscuring   a   pale

view   of   hills

that  once   belonged

to  the  leopards

of  this   land

Let  me  show  you

the  riverbank

watching us from the

wasteground

heavily  coloured

the  glare

a burden

east  of  the  city

curving  downwards

instead of up

No  desire  to  return

  into  the   glare

black  wires

the  reappearance  of

the  large  white  car 

If you don’t know mushrooms

don’t go picking them

Holy basil  barbeque sauce

so temptingly green

you lick it off your palm 

    There is no pearl in this

oyster   one fraternal twin

smiles   the other frowns

Which illness will she consume first?

Beware of chain snatchers

the  stone  wall  says

The universe makes no sense 

It  is  to  be  hoped

her   viscera  was  not  for

indolence

Painfully   she  turned  on  him

reverberations

green  bright

They  drank  in   changes

of  scenery

He  detailed  the  rather

despairing

lassitude  squeezed  dry

A  positive   gem

of  speech

the  hyphen

of  what  has  gone

      before

An  innocent

in  the  town  of

broad  green  leaves

A  sudden  waft

almost   out  of  my  child

hood

 the  sweet  song

   completely   abandoned

Someone  was  coming

  pattering feet

               whispering   on

this  side  of  the  sunny

afternoon

    A  rare  bird   survived       

the  constant  rush  of

answers  that

  bitter-sweet   day

In  my  other    life

I  swan   along  rivers

glassy  green    practising

cackles  of  alarm

to  spit   at  two-legged

hormonal    beasts.

In   this  one  I   swallow

gobs   of  discomfiture

down

so  my  given  role  of

cathartic   priest

stays                intactly

glowing    a  private

fireworks  display  in which 

stars  keep

falling  in  picturebook

   shapes

soundlessly     tinsel

What   hurt  our  feelings

      soon   made   apparent :

             idiosyncrasies

             bitterness

             extreme  want

     weak  from   hunger

        how   long   would  it  take

            for the    ship

        listening  to  the   birds ?

                erratic   behaviour

                cold-blooded  designs

                protection

       however    true

             I  was  travelling  alone

       only  two  courses  left  open

       in  the  green  shade


Sampurna Chattarji is a writer, translator, editor and teacher with twenty books to her credit. These include her short story collection about Bombay/Mumbai, Dirty Love (Penguin, 2013) and ten poetry titles, the latest being the collaborative work Elsewhere Where Else (Poetrywala, 2018) and Space Gulliver: Chronicles of an Alien (HarperCollins, 2020). Her translation of Sukumar Ray’s poetry and prose – titled Wordygurdyboom! – is a Puffin Classic. After Death Comes Water (HarperCollins, 2021) is her translation of Joy Goswami’s prose poems, lauded as a recreation of the Bangla originals in “a living voice, as inventive and vivid as the English of Joyce.”

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