Don’t Fear an Apology & other poems



Too hot to hide under sheets

Mandu lay naked in bed

Her back sticky from sweat

A voice echoed in her head



Get up, get up, get up!

There’s so much to be done

Mandu couldn’t lift a finger

So she let her nose run



The walls absorbed the smell

Of dirty clothes and dirty dishes

Inconvenience became a stalker

Fish curry ceased to be delicious



Her thoughts could be no louder

And her tongue only played dumb

Starting to feel like stone

Mandu waited for sleep to come


Most incongruent buddies brought together

Confirmed bird brains of the same feather;

A European genius nestled in the tropic

His land welcomes our maestro, brown and myopic;

Sat with drinks, comparing the weather.



If you think you’d lose face, I’m afraid you are wrong

When you notice a mistake, never take too long

Wisdom will only point at today

Tomorrow will always be too far away

To accept your regret can only make you strong.

The Epitaph Of Vincent Vaseline



It is with great struggle that I am able to let you in on a secret. Not by virtue of secrecy, but as a function of my stoic tendencies. I’ve been running for fourteen fortnights and am on the edge of losing my well deserved inertia; The hands of the clock burn my insides like the one from between the buttons. Damn the world if I lose this race!

A disorganized jellyfish floats in panic inside my skull

Hopping from bullet to bullet

On my list of undone things

But out of luck I’m down here stuck

In the grave of a boiled vegetable.

-Vincent Vaseline (Yesterday – Tomorrow)


About author

Adrija Chakrabarti
Adrija Chakrabarti 2 posts

Adrija Chakrabarti, 20, is a student of Psychology in the Maharaja Sayajirao University of Baroda. She started writing at the age of six, writing mostly prose. However, the ambiguous nature of poetry attracted her in her late adolescence. As a recovering patient of depression, she finds solace in expressing in verse what she otherwise cannot articulate.

You might also like

My Elder Brother & Other poems

An important Bengali poet of 80’s, Dhiman Chakraborty was born and brought up in Kolkata. The first edited magazine by Chakraborty was ‘Aalaap’ (Introduction / Conversation). In the year of

Eternal Mulberry:Manindra Gupta – Part II

Part 2 Calcutta A few years later of my mother’s death, my grandmother became eager to see me. It was then for the first time I visited Calcutta [Kolkata] along

Gaajan -A Hindu Folk Festival: Biswarup Saha

Gaajan is a Hindu festival associated with deities Shiva, Neel and Dharmathakur. Gajan spans around a week, starting at the last week of Choitro continuing till the end of the

Krakow, Poland: Swagata Basu Pajor

The first thing that you notice upon landing on Krakow’s John Paul II International airport is the crisp fresh air. The drive down to Nowy Sacz is truly a sight

Seven Haiku

1. My dream globe encompasses Your rain-cries, summer-wrath And broken-heart yellow leaves. 2. Your silent song fills the air. It takes away my soul Into a tranquil dark world. 3.

O Tempora! & Other Poems: Amit Chakravarty

Inside The Eyes of a Fortune-teller Inside the eyes of a fortune-teller lied a rural road. Then the evening was softly descending on the village. Vincent left painted cornfields on

The Testimony of God

Premashila’s seven-year-old son died on the train. Mother and son were travelling to their village from Hyderabad along with some daily-wage labourers whom she worked with in the city. The

Ostrich & Other Poems: Adrija Chakrabarti

WOULD YOU LIKE TO JOIN ME Not everything has a meaning I walked to nowhere today My feet touched a lost day’s dew My heart felt the thrill of speed

Blues for a Black Cat

Boris Vian (1920-59) led a rather too short life on this earth. But, within that 39 years, he wrote 10 novels, 42 short stories, 7 theatre pieces, 400 songs, 4 poetry

Deed of Gift: Amar Mitra

Deed of Gift (drafted by Sahebmari Baske) Beneficiary: Sahebmari Baske, s/o late Muchiram Baske, race Santhal, Indian in an extended sense, address Mouza Sonarimara, in other words, the Indian republic.

The Rain and Other Poems: Shankha Ghosh

Shankha Ghosh (born 6 February 1932) is a Bengali poet and critic, born in Chandpur of present day Bangladesh. He is a leading authority on Rabindranath Tagore. Other than that,


1 por la precisión supe que el tiro vino de dentro **** for accuracy I knew the shot came from inside 2 me oculto en la rutina   sonrío    reparto tarjetas

Firdaus: Mukta Singh Zocchi

Grass grows, birds hop around and fly again, waves smash their heads on the shore, then dissipate. I have my sponges. I will watch them as they grow and die, then

An Ambivalent Text: Chayan Samaddar

I heard that Children’s Literature was ’Impossible’, I heard it was an amorphous entity, I heard that there was no readily definable body of Children’s Literature any more than there

Diaspora, Critical Theories, and Death of Language: Ahmed Shams’ analysis

Avik Gangopadhyay has both critical and creative writings to his credit published in esteemed journals and leading newspapers. A post-Graduate in English Language and Literature from Jadavpur University, Kolkata. He

“Viva la Poesia!” Ahmed Tahsin Shams reads Sudeep Sen’s stunning new anthology

“I will read to you, read to you from / this book of forthcoming, this / text in variations: / an index to ask / of what / you meant

The Minimal & Infinite

Our time, habits & nuances have been changing rapidly since ‘90s. It started from 1991, through Manomohan Singh’s reform & liberalized economic policies .Then  it started with more sweeping changes

Wind-script, Trigger Happy & Other Poems

1. Walk into the eerie; and sense who drills thy tomb with the wind-stone. 2. The propeller turns as a maze. On whose flesh that maroon nightgown murmurs? Oh human-toy!

Ahalya of the rock & Other poems: KGS Pillai

Ahalya of the rock Leader of the mission to protect the hermits stood on a jungle rock watching the forest dwellers’ heads floating down the wild stream. “step away ,


No Comments Yet!

You can be first to comment this post!

Leave a Reply