Posts by Mrinal Kalita

An Ode to Parting

There was a monsoon the last time I left home, the treacherous gale swayed branches and rivers lapped onto the topmost step where a lone bum once slept under the winter moonshine and wept. We had met in our trembles and fears, our brown eyes turned lucid like dreams minutes trailing away in trepidation of a farewell we hoped would end someday soon.   Seven years, and the city still

Arms of Her Dreams

She walked across the beach slowly, barefeet, with the wet sand oozing in between her toes. It was drizzling and it drove most of the people to shelter. But she kept on walking with her eyes staring at the ocean and its waves with a blank semblance slightly tinted with pain. The waters crashed ashore and kissed her feet gently, only to retrieve itself back to where it belonged, like

Letters at Day’s End #2

Maitrey, there is a sadness that stops by every night and asks me of you, of your sudden white smile and your sweaty groin that I’ve never smelled like pages from my favourite book.   Some nights, I feel a soreness underneath my ragged skin growing under your moonlit memories. On other days, I feel the pulses of your neck on my tongue throbbing faster with every second that my

Letters at Day’s End #1

Maitrey, our days have come to an end and your words will soon trail away following your footsteps to a faraway place, distant from our small, sluggish city where the solitary rains would trap the melancholy of despairing days into the conversations of people in quiet, forgotten corners.   Yes, our city is a dream in itself floating amidst the clouds like secrets scratching under a ragged skin.   Our

Colours

I want life to be a world of colours, a spectrum of diverse backdrops, an outrageous chemical mixture, an art in itself. I want it all coloured on my body before my final breath; before the senses black out; before the tunnel shuts its mouth and the coldness of death consumes me whole.   I want to feel the depth of aching love, I want to writhe in its strangling

Demon Diaries

And then one day, I jump into black holes like they were television shows in hazy hours with hazier hearts, and I’m losing my sanity like sand grains through tight fists I’ve grown all along to not let go of and in time, I see a different world shifting beneath my feet crawling under my breath fucking my mind like dragons, strange but familiar visions and I think to myself

Distance and Lovers

In this moment, you and I are cities, vessels of longing and fuming passions. In this moment, I am counting the minutes to your next phone call, the hours to your mellow refrains, and the days to our meeting as lovers.   I’ve forgotten how long we shook hands that day. I’ve forgotten if I’d turned around to look back while you walked away.   All these months later, I

Death Notes

i.   Today, the earth shook beneath our feet and I remembered a crazy traveller who once told me earthquakes and heartbreaks transpired with tectonic plates moving inside in deformed sync, trying to rub off their hatred onto one another.   ii.   With a heavy crumble on the inside and heavier shudders on the outside, I’ve felt walls crack and let out strength that stood against oceans and infinities

The Final Wish

Even when the doctor announced my father’s terminal cancer, his impassive expressions did not die. He had always been a stern man with few words and fewer affections, his cigarettes being his silent companions and the night sky his sole muse. But on that day, my brother and I could make out from the way he moved and the way his voice escaped, quivering and arid, the fear that had

Candlelight Poetry

The light is out tonight. The wind brought down the electric poles and put half the city to sleep. The other half, the horny, depressed and in love find shelter in this massive strangeness of rest that gathers over the city like a heavy blanket of mist.   In our home, the battery lamps last awhile but the hours finally bring out the candles and fire and a little melancholy