Sanctum Sanctorum
I’ve preserved it
Taken care of it
Nurtured it
Nourished it
With all my love
And gentle care…
Kept it clean
Showering everyday
It smells nice and fresh
Of soap and gel,
After every bath
If you inhale me
You’ll feel the freshness
Of what I say…
Though sometimes
I just let it be
Not that clean
So it retains
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poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Miser
I had the money
To buy aplenty
And I did spend
On buying gold
For the temple deity.
Prayed, I diligently
Every morning of
Every day,
Even my night
Ended in prayers
To the almighty.
I spent lavishly
On incense,
To get the best
Fragrance ~
For my favourite
Gods – Rama, Krishna
And Sai Baba.
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poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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His Call
That evening
I sat down to write
My very last mail
To him.
And while I was writing
I could feel
My aching heart
Throbbing so loud
I could hear
Every beat of it
Pulsating with pain.
And still I kept writing
My very last mail
To him.
Though my eyes
Felt blurred
With all the tears
That rushed asunder
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poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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My Eyes
Don’t look into my eyes, my love
For they would reveal to you…
How much they’ve waited for you
Waking every night
And crying every day
For years together
And decades of
Thirsting for you
In their every expression
Of silent words they say…
Don’t look into my eyes, my love
For they would tell you,
How they felt tired and lost
In their diurnal crusade
Of looking at the empty streets
Ahead
And hoping to see a glimpse,
A speck of that fleeting image
Of you and you and only you.
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poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Illicit Love
Are you lonely, my love
the love of your life
loves another man?
Are you in pain, my love
the love of your life
needs the other man?
Does your heart ache, my love
the love of your life
cannot forget that man?
Do I hurt you, my love
when I say to you
I can't get over that man?
Can you accept - my love
the love of your life
thinks of the other man
always, all the time?
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My Children
I really love my children very much
Sometimes I myself wonder how much
And I also do keep pondering over,
The why…s of loving them so much :)
I know a mother loving her progeny
Is very much a universal phenomenon
Innate and natural, this nurturance
It is not quite a mystery as such;
Yet it mesmerises me as much ;)
I cherish having them in my life
They are God’s unique gifts to me
A deep bonding I share with them
The relationship is a precious treasure
As much as for them, as for me…
It is an unfathomable and
Ubiquitous experience…
For me, as well as, for
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poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Talking
Though we talk on the phone
So very often
Only phrases of words
We exchange…
For you are so busy
All the time
Being at office
Or at home.
And I keep wondering
About the right time
To call you up
And have a nice talk
To savour the flavour
Of a relaxing conversation
As that of an evening walk.
Yet I Fear -
Of all what has happened
In the past
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poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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I Heard
I heard -
You want to talk to me
Though you didn’t tell me
There is the sixth sense in me
Whispering gently to me…
Softly like the blowing breeze
on the shores of the
Sydney harbour sea.
Yes, that memory of you and me
That sea-view and those
Drizzling drops of rain
On the balcony -
Where you posed for the photo
And sent it to me.
I remember it all
How you saw the sun-set
And texted me
And I wrote a long poem
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The Virgin Man
My Love,
Today when you told me
That “something”
Happened to you
As I sat close to you
Whenever you were there
With me
And I with You.
Trust Me –
I don’t even remember
On how many such occasions
That “something” happened to you
When and where…
What day, and what place.
Yet I do remember
That very lovely smile
On your handsome face
Those twinkling eyes of yours
And the way you used to
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What is Christmas without You?
What is Christmas without you, my love
The snow is there, the stars too
Winter has set in
The night is very, very blue.
Frosty, breezy, cold
Need the warmth of your love, my love
To thaw me down
And feel cosy at home.
I am like the icy stone
Who waits and waits and waits
On the deserted roads of lonely nights
For you to find me and pick me up
And cradle me in your arms
Trace me down with your fingers
And embrace me in your warmth, my love.
What is Christmas without you?
Have the phone on hand,
My e-mail too
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poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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