Poems by Tapati Gupta


Dewdrops on the branches

Bemoan the loss of lives.

We look at the statistics of casualties

Over our steaming tea

The grocery list demands attention

The imbroglio of war in a far country

 Leads to a webinar on international relations.

The seagull flies away in fear

Of human indifference

The vultures crave for more food 

But shiver at the thought of missile fire

The little sister cries for her mother

Her brother lifts her with his weak hands

Mortar shells hit their house.

I must go and do my grocery

Before prices spiral

Suddenly I hear a sound of soft sobbing

As the dew dissolves in the heat of hatred

Crows start a colloquium in the trees

On the topic of human cruelty

My crumpled grocery list escapes my fingers

Is my sky still blue?

The Old Canyon

The old canyon

What does it hide

Love, peace or strife

Let me collect the love and peace

Even though it may break me apart.

Bare branches pierce the blue

The leafy ones nod happily

Am I bare, I wonder.

I descend the slope

Treading on green grass

Sometimes on prickly thorns

Blood oozes

But I discover newness

A breath emanates from the depths

The blood is now the purple of peace.

A tree trunk softens itself for me

it assures the security of centuries of love.

Let it last, let it last

Somewhere a coyote sings to its mate.

Tapati Gupta is a retired Professor of the Department of English, University of Calcutta and former Head of the Department. An erudite scholar, a theatre, arts and music aficionado and an enthusiastic photographer, she continues to pursue new interests with indefatigable zeal.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s