Father Helpless and Other Poems

    By Ankush Banerjee

    1 – Father Helpless
    (Ogu & me)

    0330 am. Vocal cord the size of
    Eiffel crash. My ears. I
    stuff my mouth
    with a hand-grenade’s
    worth of silence
    before a hopeless soldier,
    now surrounded, pulls the pin.
    Somewhere in diaper-city, a war rages.
    Trenches overflow with effluents.
    Moonlight cuts us into thin
    silver fugues heard
    in empty amphitheatres. We echo
    so shrill, I swear I thought I heard you.
    Now a days, I can’t hear you. I try. The
    chasm between banality and grandiosity
    is so small, no Feeding Pillow can sleep over it.
    Empty bottles, nipples, Feeding Spoon nestle
    in the Steriliser’s womb I forgot to turn on. For a brief
    moment, there is stillness so white, I thought
    I am in a cloud, free-falling into your throat
    to embrace vocal cord sketched
    in an arc of innocence. Mutual helplessness
    and learning is the name of this game. Love was never
    really the deficit. Sleep was. Is.

    2 – Chittaranjan Park, New Delhi
    (for Anisha)

    There is no estimating,
    how time and space
    transmutes a lover.

    So forgive those fish-market shanties
    wearing concrete like a truism. The traffic,
    and its delirious swell, like a whale’s lungs,
    every day at 9 am.

    Don’t begrudge the new traffic signal its ornamental impotence.

    It’s okay
    for new bungalows
    to be coloured beige, mauve, fuchsia,
    and neat ground-floor parking lots
    replacing bougainvillea trees – where
    a boy and a girl,
    forever twelve and six,
    negotiate the dwelling place
    of an earthworm they saved
    Forgive those streets,
    for shrinking
    like grandmothers
    under the weight
    of newer, bigger, shinier cars.

    You see, it is only after you learn to unlove
    that homecoming becomes
    a matter of perpetual return,

    the way afternoon chiming
    of the kulfiwallah’s bells, the smell
    of dhunochi, the taste of jamun
    brings you closer to
    something stuck in your throat
    the night before, in a train

    hurtling towards this dwelling place,
    that was almost yours –
    until you disembark
    at the Delhi station.

    Ankush Banerjee (he/his), poet, Culture Studies PhD research scholar and serving Naval Officer, is the author of An Essence of Eternity (2016). He has been recipient of the 2019 All India Poetry Prize, as well as the United Services Institution of India Gold Medals in 2013, 2017 and 2022, for his essays on Military Ethics and Leadership. His poetry, reviews and essays appear in Eclectica, Cha, The Bombay Literary Magazine, The Tupelo Quarterly, Kitaab and The Indian Express, among others. His work has also appeared in the anthologies, Yearbook of Indian Poetry 2020 and 2021, Best of Asian Poetry 2021, and Converse: Contemporary English Poetry by Indians. He is currently stationed at New Delhi.

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