A Basket Full Of Mangoes
-Subhadeep Ghosal
The corridor of the surgical ward has only window
Its broken hinges rattle when the winds blow
Its broken hinges rattle when the winds blow
I walk to the window to put the clangs on latch
I am hit by the dust of a stormy dispatch
A mango tree sways as the wind croon
The leaves wave on the beat of a whistling tune
It lures me down the memory stream
My forehead wrinkle wanes in a broad grinned beam
Ripe green mangoes peep and stretch to touch the ground
I jump but the mangoes are beyond my bound
I hurl a stone and break the barriers
And engulf them again in plastic carriers
Footstep and abuses trace my existence
I run and run to reach the fence
An old man came running like insane
Gripping in clench a broad rimmed cane
I jump over the fence and vanish beyond the ledge
“I will get you the next day.” he would pledge
For years I plucked the pieces of joy from the clutch of time
And escaped amid unsuccessful canes and abusive chime
Today the cane have rusted with age
Lost its shine and lost its rage
Its narrow edges are now blunt
By the curse of time it bears the brunt
With the rays of nostalgia my face gleam
A shrill voice broke me from my dream
A shrill voice broke me from my dream
That voice escorted me and my fears into a cabin
The stinking smell of medicines got under my skin
My vision meets the call of few feeble fingers
And eyes where hope waned but moisture lingers
An old man and some nostalgia lay on the bed
“They guarantee me relief but not a tomorrow” He said
“You are not my heir, not friend not foe
You may wonder why I called you so
I call you to ponder on old days
Those annoying unending summer holidays
Every single day I hid behind a bush
Waiting for you to walk into an ambush
And you did come again to the mango farm
Yet you escaped without any harm
Some said I must have been really insane
To let go a thief who returns again and again
I had a delusion when I see you run?
You ran with the same gait as my son
I recall the days when I ran after my mischievous lad
He would turn back to scorn “Catch me if you can dad!”
When you turn back for the sneer
I see my son standing right there
I pick up a pebble to at hurl at you
I drop it again when I find my son in view
He left saying that the other side was greener
Indeed it was–For he did not return any sooner
Indeed it was–For he did not return any sooner
I had accustomed myself to loneliness
But you came to my life and made it a mess
I wish you had the mangoes for free
But you traded them for a bag full of memory
Memories of a person I have long lost
I was hell bound to forget him at any cost
But you walked his walk and smiled his smile
Since I cannot hate him, I hated you all the while
I decided to raise the fence
But I was left with little pence
And when I wrote to him for funds
He returned a letter filled with grunts
The denial shook my heart to the core
Guarding my honour I wrote to him no more
He won’t come but his letters would seldom appear
In them he wrote ‘the road back home is too dear’
As a kid he would ogle at half ripe mangoes
And wait for them to ripe crouching on his toes
Now that he is gone too far away
You deemed the mangoes under your sway
Stealing mangoes is no big offence
But you bought his memories over the fence
I get furious when you stare at the ripen yield
You look like him when you amble along the field
Yet my hands refuse to pick up stones
For I see his skin on your tiny bones
For I see his skin on your tiny bones
Then one summer my fury had stopped to burn
As you grew up a man and went far to earn
Anger had left me but relief was not at all in store
Sorrow crept into the hollow without knocking the door
I realised that your absence was tearing me apart
My anger was merely a pretext woven by my heart
You gave purpose to this heart drowning deep in pain
I realize it gave me pleasure to run after you in vain
Now that you are gone my life seems hollow
A mere existence waiting for death to follow
And yes! I know that death is very near
But I am glad I would die without fear
My son has come back home traversing long without a fret
Because a lonely father is a liability but a dying one is an asset
The mango firm will now belong to him
Then why do I feel so utterly grim?
I thought about it hard and I know why.
Because I am incomplete until I bid you ‘bye’
There is a basket full of mangoes lying idle in the farm
Go quietly at the night so that it causes no alarm
Take them with you before he snatches it all
Take them with you before death befall
Having spoken so the man wore a smile
I was anxious when he kept the smile for a while
I realised that he moved no more
That was the last smile he ever wore
That was the last smile he ever wore
That night a force drove me to that farm again
I discovered the basket of mangoes with no pain
I emptied the basket in a bag I had brought along
But being a grown up now I felt it was wrong
Just then I saw a narrow stick lying on the ground
I inflicted it upon me without ringing a sound
Now it does not feel so bad
I left the farm feeling very glad
