by Saikat Das
A little boy in Saikat Das’s poem is fascinated by a butterfly and does something that’s sure to bring a smile to your face. Read on.
He was after it
For quite some time
Jumping over the cot
To get hold of it
Till it flew up
And landed
High on the wall
Near the ceiling
He gave up
The chase
And wistfully
Kept looking
At the Butterfly;
I was moved
And came to his aid
Doing all I can
But the little thing
Fooled me as well
We both gave up
The hunt
And sat down
Slowly drowning
In the poetry
HE has etched
In its wings;
The butterfly
Stood still
Unruffled by
Human benevolence
Then maybe
Unmindful of it all
It came down
And rested on my shoulder
Now is his chance
To teach
The proud little thing
A lesson
But my son
Just smiled at me
And let it go
To our small garden
Beside the window.
Saikat Das (39), comes from Chinsurah, a Dutch settlement on the banks of river Hugli. A teacher in a sub-urban High School, he dreams of writing a novel but has always ended up writing poems that wink at him rather mischievously, taunting his bouts of passion that never quite make it to a novel. But he hasn’t given up.
