The first cut is the deepest
I was so grounded, you remember?
Grounded, yet head held high.
You tried to uproot me in vain.
You slashed me deep to make me fall.
This long-lasting affair was on,
in a continuum, for so many days.
But how many days could you win
in a wicked game to put me down?
My silent shrill cry, ambling in the air
touched their ears through the chill.
Reni’s women took no time to step in,
as my saviours from this age old sin.
No more cuts came upon me,
all the rest were borne by them.
I came out with flying colours,
for the toll they paid with their lives.
I smarted in pain with deep hackings,
yet I managed to survive with my greens.
I could withstand the most intense,
since the first cut is the deepest.
Global boiling
Adored no more are grasses with dews of dawn
Winter weeps in grey melancholy.
Cajoled neither are falling fronds with sweet chill
Autumn shrieks with pale maples.
Adorned neither is broken earth by pelting drops
Monsoon is in crisis of identity.
Cuddled no more are bouncy breezes with flora
Spring loiters in gloomy exile.
Garbed are the seasons with paradigm shift
Summer shrugs them all with heated empathy.
Global boiling.....
Post modern indèed!
Rituparna Khan
Rituparna Khan, by profession,is an academic. Presently she is posted at Bidhannagar College, Salt Lake, Kolkata and is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Geography. By passion, she is an author drowned in her own world of dream-weaving. She believes in depth of quality rather than extravaganza of quantity. She loves to experiment with her literary works from a variety of genres ranging amongst short story, poetry, novella, non fiction and many more.