CALCUTTA 1946.

A WOMAN REMEMBERS HER GRANDMOTHER IN CALCUTTA IN 1946.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bodies without souls,
Your grandmother said,
Speaking of the day

 

Of the massacre.
She saw them there, dead
Bodies without souls;

 

Transmigration of
Their souls after that.
Higher or lower

 

Depending the place
Of them while living,
She uttered. You are

 

Listening to the
Battered radio
Remembering her

 

Words, the way her words
Filled the air above
Your head; like caged birds

 

Fluttering for their
Freedom. You close your
Eyes; you are hearing

 

Music, you’re seeing
Behind your closed eyes
Your grandmother’s face,

 

The expression there,
Anger, frustration.
Chahna, Grandmother

 

Would say, do not sit
With your mouth open;
Flies will enter there

 

Thinking it a cave
And you would laugh and
She would allow her

 

Lips to spread and a
Smile to form as if
By magic. Now you

 

Are sitting hearing
Her voice singing with
The music on the

 

Battered radio,
Remembering her
Finger pointing out

 

Of the window at
Birds in flight, her dark
Eyes gazing across

 

From the far wall where
Shadows play. You rise
Up and dance about

 

The room as she had
Done on her good days,
Holding your hands in

 

Hers, the words hushed, the
Small feet rising and
Falling as if on

 

Hot coals, recalling
The words she spoke of
The massacre: the

 

Dead ones lying there,
Bodies without souls.