Paradise
written by: Utpal Chakraborty
Our childhood paradise descended
on the earthen floor
of our common kitchen.
It flowed through hand fans,
and goose bumps of bedtime stories.
It was smeared in afternoon sports;
one football team easily formed
of the extended family.
It came in the shape of
one or two sets of new dress
for each of us on the first
day of the pujas.
Bijoya greetings with sweetmeats
joined the ends, diluting all differences.
On every day before Dashami
I still float lamps wishing
all well from the seventh floor.
And my persuasion to make it to our
long forgotten prenatal venue is
an annual ritual now.