Worship
I saw that
Old man
Offering
Prayers
To the
Mother
Goddess
Amidst
The chanting
Of the mantras
The observance
Of the religious
Rites, rituals…
And fragrance
Of the incense,
Not forgetting
Lighting of the
Holy fire.
In between
The yajna
Whenever
He got those
Little breaks,
When the purohit
Found himself
Busy with all and
Sundry…
The old man
Never missed
A chance to berate
His wife, before
The audience,
Pulling her on
Every little
Thing she might
Have done a-miss
While arranging for
The Puja.
He had forgotten
She was as old
As he seemed to be,
She was frail and feeble,
Her body ridden with
Arthritis.
He remembered
He was the
Man of the
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poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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