The Flight

Eighty hours of painful

Recovery of the self

Leaves behind a scar

Deep embedded

In the bosom

Where sometime back

Lay a beloved friend.

I recollected all my

Cherished collections

And transformed them

Into ice, preserving

Every minuscule of remembrance.

Anuradha Bhattacharyya: The Flight

Hope I have not hurt you

In saving my own feelings.

To this end we were hurtling down

Pell-mell anyway; you

Cannot blame a foretold

Conclusion. I was

Ready for a sacrifice

Before the gods:

Wind, water, earth, the Sun

 Name any one who was not

Satisfied when we were together.

Each one left behind

A blessing in return

That I have collected from you …

And perhaps that is what

You have reason to think

As treason, saying,

After eighty hours of loving

How can a body separate

The heart from its bosom?