Poem by Chua Bagchi Mitra
The day I was burnt
The day was beautiful with
Lovely smell of flowers,
From my garden.
I was sipping my coffee,
My favourite companion Tsechu,
Was sitting by my side.
Then I heard someone’s footstep
Inside, both of us ran towards
The house, and saw two men,
With mask, first they shoot Tsechu.
I was about to ask but seeing Tsechu, in blood, I sat and looked
At them, tears and questions in my eyes….
They grabbed me and drag me to
The kitchen ….I lost consciousness.
After few moments, I heard my daughter’s voice..I feel relieved.
But NO, she is instructing them to
Keep on all the gas cylinders, put
On me some flammable liquids,
And burn me…..
Now I see my body, burnt like a charcoal, my daughter is there too.
I turn my face….
There is no love anymore.
Chua Bagchi Mitra ©®