Recluse Sanatorium – Dr. B.K. Chakrabarti, Kolkata


My childhood Home,

Parents in pale prostrate setting

beckon me !

Tea in a cracked old cup,

few damp biscuits,

Wrinkled coarse hands

of labour and love

(In the days of idle smooth hands)

caress with so much friction

— so nourishing

touch to the core !

Could I visit the late parents last?

Are they gone?

Am I so eager to find out a beggar

to offer some money

as a token of last rite

— a ball of rice in the Ganges at Gaya !

Do I frequent the remote sanatorium

where poverty gives all the poor around

in shape of my parents !


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