THE FOLLOWING POEM BY IPSITA BANERJEE OF KOLKATA WAS SELECTED IN THE SHORTLIST OF WINGWORD POETRY PRIZE 2020 AND WON TEN THOUSAND RUPEES
The rain lashed the walls of my face
Each drop piercing the skin as I chased
The old unused tent that threatened to fly
Off the terrace. Someone gave that tent
To my daughters for them to play with,
And there it stayed for years thereafter, out-grown,
But not remembered to be thrown.
The clouds raced their chariots across the sky
In gun-metal grey and charcoal, as birds
Flapped their wings against the breeze searching
For a way out of the storm, a place to call home
Even for a while. The wind blew in a flower
from three houses down. The maid silently weeps
As her daughter cannot be reached
She did not go to the evacuation centre
And the embankments have been breached.
But we are safe here, in our homes.
Outside the cyclone rages, winds blowing
In every direction, nature is so fierce, someone wails.
Nature reminds us now and again how small,
How helpless we all are. How small and useless
How weak and ineffective in our mighty towers.
Aluminium sheets from that fancy building
Rained from the sky, others danced the streets
Turning jagged corners as the wind
Spun them in the air. Trees have fallen
As trees in concrete tend to, their roots
Not deep enough to withstand a cyclone. The wind blew
In a flower from three houses down. How strong
Are the roots that you cling to? Where do you go
When you want to be home? Can you endure
This devastation? Do you have yourself to hang on to?
Do you seek or do you provide shelter in a storm?
For we are safe here, in our homes.
There is a mother unable to feed her child
Who feeds her hunger with drain water tonight
A father that carries the world on shoulders
That never have shuddered in delight.
Then, of course, there is Facebook
Asking, are you safe in the cyclone?
Have you kept your distance, have you been spared,
The whimsical vagaries of nature, are you home?
How are they, those who were walking?
Those whose homes have been washed away?
The wind has no sense of direction, it blew
In a flower from three houses down.
But where does the blood and water flow?
These are things we only debate and discuss
Talking in hushed voices, watching, wide-eyed
Videos forwarded in clusters.
You see, we are safe. In our homes.