Two Stories Sujoy Bhattacharya   © Copyright 2019 by Sujoy Bhattacharya

A Rare Exile

Post modernism polishing posterior

part of civilization .

A raven raised its bruised beak

to battle with the ugly bestiality .

A bovine call disturbed

the desolate domain, traverse

tranquility.

I was standing on the bank

of Yamuna full to the brim-

as consummate as a pregnant

woman at an advanced stage .

My magenta look craned up to salute

dark clouds pouring

down torrentially melting meticulously .

The fugitive sun took

prolonged shelter behind the murky clouds .

Bacteria and virus were rejoicing

with jubilant exuberance

infesting on human bodies .

My moist feet were eager to soak

warmth from the core

of the earth !

Feline fidelity frowned at the frozen

fossil of moral inertia .

The ether wave echoed a

shrill cry floating

around the globe .

Granules of gorgeous glitters

made a garland to

pay last homage to the corpse

of human civilization.

I descried a floral chariot

descending from the void

to abduct me to an alien planet

Transformed I Was!

My destiny played a quirky game with me .

I grew up to be a handsome young boy .

At my adolescent age spring appeared in my

body with all her fervor . I felt a sensation

untasted before . I felt inside how a flower

unfolds her petals after being pollinated by insects .

A mild flame of joy was spraying a supple warmth

to make my blood ebullient with an amorous flow .

Thousand butterflies were sprinkling hues in my mind

to rinse it with the dew of ambrosia from divine well !

But externally I was a coy , shy boy exhibiting all

symptoms of a young girl – soft-spoken , averse to

manly robust attitude , listless pertness was absent

in my character . My mom took me to a sexologist .

He diagnosed that I was a pitiable prey to hormonal

disorder . I soon felt that my chest was showing an

abnormal change -it was swelling out to turn into a

tender breast of a teenaged girl . I was getting transformed

into a girl. Transgender surgery made me a full-fledged girl .

I was a queer being – a transfigured creature . My male

friends changed their behavior overnight . They were extra

careful to fight shy of my company . I exiled myself to forlorn

loneliness to avoid embarrassment. The swans in the pond at

the back of my house looked at me with grinning air. The tall

coconut tree as it were was asking me something that my

mortal ear could not decipher. A fleet of floating cloud sent

me a message congealing into some drops of rain water . I felt

a shivering thrill that echoed in my ear that “ I was a girl ”.

A Journey To The Moon

I stepped into your cozy courtyard without permission ,

furtively as a wasp steals pollen grain from the stigma of

a sleeping flower . The foot print of Neil Armstrong

smiled a welcome muse to foster my stubborn

intrepidity . Your home was so dark I could not see

anything . Your black soil was very friendly to my

frozen feet . Your hills were sparkling with the luster

of obscurity to lead my bewildered strides to ashtray

with flippant joviality . In my childhood my mom used

 to say that an ageless , wizened lady weaves a texture of

linen for the divine garments of pagan gods and goddesses ,

perpetually , incessantly . I moved my searching eyes

everywhere to meet her . She perhaps went to a hiatus –

not to appear before my mortal view . You are supposed

to cultivate Soma plant for brewing Soma – rasa ,

sap of Soma plant , an enlivening drink for heavenly god

and goddess . But alas! Your barren land disappointed me

and I breathed a morose sigh . Hindu mythological stories

tell that you are the god of moon . You are white in color and

drive the moon chariot across the sky with ten white horses .

What a joke ! Your interiors are so unproductively barren ;

still you are god of fertility . The dew which fell on the plant

overnight , gave them life , comes from the moon . Barren

mothers pray to you for giving boon to get a child . You are

also father of Mercury and Stars .You are the colossal cup

that contains the ambrosia of gods . Your twenty seven

stations represent your twenty seven wives , daughters

of Daksha . Your waning and waxing is a fatal curse imprecated

on you by your father – in- law for showing bias on one of your

many wives . Periodical death ! I ransacked for meeting them .

They were found nowhere . Poets and philosophers heightened

Your status to a lofty summit . You are the source of immortal

Love poems and stories . I had a keen desire to see you with my

human eyes . I am your worshipper , a lunatic devotee . Please

appear before me to quench the thirst of my eyes ! You paid no

heed to my earnest entreaty . Suddenly I opened my dreaming

eyes as your mesmerizing beams gently washed my eyes to rinse

the stigma of idle dreaming . I thanked you and got up to write

an immortal poem with your silvery dictation , captivating oration !

In The Other Life

I liked to be a butterfly – a multicolored , listless butterfly .

I could have gossiped with the flowers in the pretext of

collecting honey ! I could hear what the wind whispers into

the ears of flowers so that they danced in glee dangling

merrily . I could run with the air playfully .I could read

what message did the fleet of floating clouds send to

snowcapped mountain peaks . I could take bath in

the deluge of the sunshine to strengthen my languid

wings for eavesdropping what stories of amorousness

the moon beams narrated to dancing ripples of the

rivers . I could know why did the storm punish the

trees by holding their ears – forcing them to prostrate

at the feet of the earth . I could learn why the irate

waves of the seas roar all the time – how their

resentment could be mitigated ! I could attend the

spring festival of the nature for listening to floral

concert to pour molten nectar to my ears .

At the end of my day' s ethereal journey I

could have a cozy bed on the bosom

of blossoms drinking their honey ,

my sumptuous supper , my delicious lunch !

Unborn Body

Inside the uterus of my mom,

my closed eyes were gossiping with

the murky darkness of womb. She eats

to kindle the pancreatic fire to erupt with

the molten lava of primitive lust yawning

languidly getting up abruptly from the fossil

slumber . My mental rhizomes rising horizontally

was occupying the Euclidean space to taste the

virility of cosmos . Anatomic vengeance spilling

narcotic saliva was trying to play mockery with

paternal pregnancy blunting the Cupid’s arrow

with the silent sonography of abysmal crevices

of dying dynasties’ vainglory ! A group of

serpentine caravan in quest of oasis ,

lost into the enigmatic mirage blinding the

millions of cosmic eyes with the aromatic

vapor of burnt Vampires . Dissected lactic

glands flowing deluge of undrinkable milk were

fostering quenched thirst to wake up from

untimely hibernation .Church bells were

ringing fanatically threatening the frozen

chest of clergymen’s catastrophe.

Opening my embryonic eyes I closed the door

ajar of the unprotected fort-

pseudoscience frowning at the boldness

emanating from my unborn body 

researching human psychology .