Bhaskar Roy Barman
Once on an evening in a desolate place
far from the madding crowds eternal strife
I stood closeted with the eve-beauty
manifested around the place,
exposing myself to the eerie and stifling air
and trying to attune my ears to the bacchanalian fits
of silence dancing in moonlight.
My eyes darted over to a pond
as big as a lake,
then bumped into a teenaged girl beckoning
at a figure of a boy bathing in a profusion of moonlight
at a little distance .
The scene had me remember myself sitting at a table
In a crowded restaurant
and a girl the age of the girl yonder near the pond
treading unescorted her way through the drunken fits
of many a drunkard ogling at her beauty
over to a handsome boy sitting at a table near mine
and smiling an intimate smile.
She was fearless of the drunkenness of the drunkards
and the way they are ogling her,
as was the girl yonder near the pond
of the silence and desolateness of the place.
