Poems by Rudra Kinshuk

A Meditation of Being 

(For Jayanta Mahapatra)

Reading of your letters
wakes me up
from effacing forgetfulness.

I remember my birds and rivers.

Collective rains bring
the memories of navimul,
back to the seeds.

R   e   m   e   m   b   r   a   n   c   e
                             is a meditation
                                       on being.

A half-eaten apple

A half-eaten apple
the floor.

I see the cat               jumping.

The moss green wall
looks like a mirror
of a giant
in a fairy tale.

The  half-eaten apple 
and the cat disappear
into the oblivion

The peon drops a letter
into the wooden box
fixed outside,
as if descending 

A Bunch of Keys

I’ve a bunch of different keys,
old and rusted.

They’ll never come to any use.

For a few of the locks 
have got lost
and the rest not in order.

Still I handle them
 with care
and often take them 
out of my drawer
and gaze at them long.

I believe that a magic box
 will come to my dream

I can’t throw away old keys,
as if fond memories of my grandma. 

For a Child Cat

I left your tiny body
under the culvert.
I thought
It could be done
with a little more care
and sense.

Should I weep now in silence?
To wipe memories
from my fingertips?
I take bath
under coughing showers.

Still shadows cannot be effaced.

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