Sometimes a new year is a seduction and sometimes a refuge
But every new year has a promise of a rough magicÂ
like bruised petals of a flower gettingÂ
another chance to be watered and renewed. The yellowed noonÂ
before a new year in Calcutta smellsÂ
of an overly baked cake, square and fluffy
Each noon before a new year is always too caramelized
Though this is a year of price rise
Before a new year, my left eye throbs in memoryÂ
of the year almost passed. Three buses and a yellow taxi speed pastÂ
the red post boxes near Esplanade east,Â
a white ferry coos on the Hooghly
Their muffled screams slowly coil on the body of the MonumentÂ
like hollow serpent-skinsÂ
Calcutta aka Kolkata, last days of December, polluted air,Â
festivities in Park Street, warm winter, Chinese rice lights,Â
crows on old tram wires, three beggarsÂ
dance in the Queens바카라™s WayÂ
I am standing near the General Post Office with a valiseÂ
full of letters to the pastÂ
and the New Year greetings cardsÂ
Crumbs of the baked noon on my back, a pomegranate in my hand
Each red seed is for a year, a departed friend and a relative
There is a stain on the ceiling of the sepia straw sky. A kiteÂ
watches the old city from above. Like Marcus Aurelius. Like fate.Â
The hands of the grand clock atop the white domeÂ
of General Post Office pointÂ
in opposite directionsÂ
Like Jean Jacques Rousseau바카라™s pointed fingers to Hobbs,
only in different directions. They stand back-to-backÂ
like the old year and the new. Are we heading towards
good times or going back?Â
Should we go back in time and settleÂ
in its best days with our dead relatives and a stable price index?Â
Years go by, historians and the economists
have their moments of bliss. Yet longing exists,Â
though only in photographs. More and more people sleep
in the pedestrian walksÂ
An old gunmetal bell from St. John바카라™s ChurchÂ
tolls only once
A clean and simple octave. Decisive. It sounds reassuringÂ
and self-confident. I hand over the lettersÂ
and the greeting cards to the young post office clerkÂ
and leave
Life바카라™s plainness is a pre-Homer folktaleÂ
Old and new are always paired
(Sekhar Banerjee is a Pushcart Award (2021) and Best of the Net (2023) nominated poet. Â The Fern-gatherers바카라™ Association (Red River, 2021) is his latest collection of poems. He has been published in Stand Magazine, Indian Literature, The Bitter Oleander, Ink Sweat and Tears, The Lake, Muse India, Kitaab, Madras Courier, Outlook, The Wire and elsewhere. Â He lives in Kolkata, India.)
