“Fabric from Kashmir” and Other Poems

By Sayan Aich Bhowmik

Subarnarekha Pal - A Puzzle Misfit (2018), Digital
Image description: The drawing, rendered in fine black lines against a yellow backdrop, depicts an abstract portrait of a person. The person’s facial features are defined, and they seem to be wearing sunshades and a hat. Their torso is rendered in geometric spirals. On the left side of the drawing, the person’s face is partially obscured by a tuft of hair, from which emerge abstract geometric patterns and eye-like shapes. On the right side of the drawing, which is in a lighter shade of yellow, similar eye-like shapes extend from the person and are connected in a network of lines.

Summer Had Arrived

They say the night went by

On the back of the last train,

Its whistle punching a hole

In the sky.

The dinner was still warm on the table

As you went for a walk

Along the fault lines on my palm.

You hardly kept time

Without the milestones

Someone had stolen from the highway.

When you finally managed to rest,

Your feet had reached the last

Village on earth

Where not a single fire was lit

To signal your arrival.

The wind rustled the leaves

And there was a knock on my neighbour's,

Which I mistook for mine.

The doors were kept ajar

And both of us were up all night

With the hope

That summer had arrived at last

Inside either of our rooms.

---

Subarnarekha Pal - Botgachh (The Banyan Tree) (2021), Digital
Image description: The abstract drawing features fine, white lines against a black backdrop composed of thick, vertical strokes. The lines, sprawling horizontally across the stretch of the backdrop, create layered, curving patterns that sometimes form abstract portraits, profiles, and mask-like shapes.

Curtains

Some men from the government

Came to our apartment yesterday,

Looking for my grandmother.

They plonked themselves on

The uncomfortable sofa,

Took tea and crunched on cookies,

Both past their expiry dates,

While reading the 12-year-old

Death certificate of hers.

They apologized profusely

And went out like responsible

Government officials.

Everyone went back to sleep

With the yellowish paper

Very close to a circular tea stain

On the centre table.

This visit has been an aberration.

And from a distance,

It is indeed a stunning visual

A curtain fluttering in the wind

Of a house of two hundred windows

All closed.

---

Subarnarekha Pal - Words (2018), Digital
Image description: The abstract drawing features fine, white lines against a black, cloud-shaped backdrop composed of thick, vertical strokes. Towards the left of the drawing, the side profile of an abstract figure consists of symmetrical noses and mouths, connected by a single eye. The profile wears a crown. From its right mouth emerges spiraling lines. The profile is surrounded by abstract human figures with rectangular boxes for heads, as well as plant-shaped patterns. In the upper right corner are two hovering lamps. Towards the right side of the drawing is an abstract, front-facing portrait of a long-haired person; the left half of their face is rendered in dotted lines, whereas the right half is rendered in solid lines. 

Fabric From Kashmir

You have come to me

And with a sweep of your shroud

Cleared the front porch

Of sickly leaves and twigs.

You have come with a familiar sound

Of the evening descending all of a sudden

Into the tea cups of an entire city.

The fog in reality

Is a shawl from Kashmir

My grandmother once sold off

To buy a month's ration.

Those days, she used to say,

Winter came slouching inside the courtyard

And stayed long after the welcome faded.

---

Sayan Aich Bhowmik is currently Assistant Professor in the Department of English, Shirakole College. His debut collection of poems I Will Come With A Lighthouse was published in 2022.

*

Subarnarekha teaches English in a college classroom and a researcher. She's an ardent observer of life around her. Subarnarekha writes, makes comics and creates art. Her works have been published in various magazines and blogs. 

---

---

If you’ve enjoyed reading this article, please consider making a donation. Your donation goes towards paying our contributors and a modest stipend to our editors. Singapore Unbound is powered by volunteers, and we depend on individual supporters. To maintain our independence, we do not seek or accept direct funding from any government.