Rumjhum Biswas
Mediocre Whisky
Here I am, laid out
Like a leg of ham. A jigger
Of mediocre whisky swaying in its glass
And I am watching
This old corny movie
About secularity and a family
Separated from each other
For twenty two years. All
Of it told in retro style,
In screen splitting retro colors,
And all this time it’s raining
Harder than the heroine’s tears
In bleak, elongated drops
Like one thread syrup.
And, I am crying too and drinking
My whisky at the same time, and trying hard
To surrender to the moment;
The feeling’s passing through my throat
And meeting a dead end in my belly
I am just not succeeding
In getting the hang of this
Season of good cheer and giving.
What’s the use?
Why cry
Over a few drops of spilt nerves and whisky?
|