Tales from an Asati (Asati-Kathan)

On September 2, 2014 by admin



Anjana Chakrabarty


for shaitaan




Dipping at this river

In dress untainted

Sankha-sindoor adorned

At your tread thakur this pebble I fix to a twig


No, not seeking children

Nor husband’s health


An unalloyed asati I am

Another’s husband

Who I have desired all my life


Fasten him to this pebble

And drop him—thhok!  Right in front of my feet thakur


Just for once.





My cross

My nails

My crown of thorns

My tortuous death


I have lugged them all unto him


Smiles, vanity, this make-up

Beneath jollity waking up


With such ease can he spill blood






Sniffing, sniffing, the pale telephone

A stray knock, leaping to the door

Pointless nail scratches so


Phone calls one or two, an sms may be

(work related)

Or perhaps a shadow lengthening there—afar


Ah, then wagging tongue –swishing, twitching

Raised tail, ah-tu-tu fondness

Vaulting upto the moon


To be doggish more than a dog can be

Is how the days go by…


And people think—tigress !




Global Warming


How close does the sun come to the earth?


Days of rain have evaporated, like a miser’s perfume

In every direction a scalding sun now, its rays blistering





Two people, unable anymore to lie together


Poems, too, are combustible


Sets ablaze

The destined twosome



After the Rain


Finally, it all eked out today

Chunks and chunks of pain


Golden filigreed sun

One or two sparrows come out to play


Wiping wet eyes they look up at the sky


On such cloud-clear days


I even wish I could love your wife.





A house met in a dream


Rows of closed doors, rooms

And you sleeping in one


Your light body awake in lean darkness


From such a distance its spark

And  heat

Raging, flaring colour


Scorching down a whole lifetime


Just that I don’t know

How many more demons


Man-eating boa

Three-headed dogs have I to cross


Before that door comes unhinged





In the dream there were no clothes


Since you have not looked at me for days

Since you have not shrouded this hungry body with yours

Since you have not bedecked my naked body with a caress


In this winter

With no food, clothing

In public, among so many people


I was dying, splintered by shame






Following every ritual—pindo-daan, mukhagni

Communes, fraternity, relations


Beyond all trials and chhi chhi

Quitting the vestures of our bodies

Our souls have emerged


The electric furnace has devoured

Body and all else


Ashes mingled with water


Come now

Let us draw close and make love

Scrape claw lacerate each other


For one more lush life





A lifetime of alap-vistaar



Shall this muffled, garbled relationship

Never arrive at that jhala?


Yours and mine?






Tune is disguised fire

Which you did not know


Scalding throat tongue lips it will

Slide you off your perch


And then pour over you a river of fire




Bolted Attic


No, I do not unlock the door anymore

Do not dust

Or spray baygon

No garland or chandan


Long ago I have tossed you

Into the bolted attic

Just beside the broken doll


Anjana Chakrabarty  teaches English at Beltala Balika Bidyalaya, Kolkata.


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