Sipping Coffee With Lova

by Bhargab Chatterjee

I

When you brew coffee
on the gas-oven
I sense a neo-realism  
breathing on my canvas.
Eating sun-toast in the morning
is fabulous.
Crunching like the evening raga Purabi
on my friend's sitar
or slicing a newspaper
with a sharp knife
I linger
until you turn with two mugs.

The sipping coffee
takes us to the Star of David
sketched on the flat, barren space
between you and me.
Morning translates your emotions
in a different way than the night.
The bright sun makes me feel
the shadow of The Potato Eaters,
that still hangs before me.

Am I wrong
when I say "we are the hollow men",  
only walk drooping our heads
towards Mars?
Being completely famished for the sun
how much you can do for me?
Can you create a new planet
in another galaxy?
Though I love the sound
of your every sip,
because it opens the whole gamut
of mystery of the universe.

 II

In your work-place
there's a knocking
on the ever silent door.
You think,
some of your unfamiliar shadows
have come
to make you more famished
in a circumstantial moment.
But every thing doesn't happen
the way it is expected.

Somewhere there is another door
waits for a similar knock.