Amitabh Mitra

poetry

And then finally when night stood still, an evening, its reign of suntrance years, of wealth, wilderness and glory of many campaigns left in a river of subterfuge, its long sinewy columns rolled down the glitter in a night borderless on stealth and stubbornness. I have been living years of such understanding, that one day in a cover of duress and despair, time might conclude a hasty retreat, its tiny droplets may not even join and sections of unrepaired horizons would differ as nights and evenings revise a no dissolving pact. The Volga at Tatarstan had refused time and again of curtailing the living with the living, different voices share a confluence of similar strengths, Tartar warriors stood on banks stretching to sea and the sea to many a skies holding aloft such spoken memories such relived lives. I had even forgiven you, you who once called upon words to reopen old forgotten closures. In an ageless complete, you are the reversal, you remain the scroll, and you are the substrate of my many lives.

Amitabh Mitra

From: Stranger than a Sun, Poems and Drawings -Collection of Prose poems and Drawings

Amitabh Mitra is a visual artist, poet and a medical doctor based in East London South Africa. He heads the Department of Emergency Medicine at a hospital in the township of Mdantsane. Stranger than a Sun is a semiautobiographical collection of prose poems and drawings.

painting poetry

Hillbrow at Johannesburg faces darkness with such ferocity; lights clamor over each other’s shoulder holding a falling sun, for here there can never be any nights. Forever evenings scream in shrill rejoinder, a clay complexioned Ethiopian girl with along neck revises proximity from a cabaret number. Men from Abuja listen with shaking heads, some even recite silently. Colors of evening find asylum on foreign surfaces. The scarred white girl rolls her eyes and gives voice to expanding vessels. Living is defiance. Illumination is not just a street here and curtains part revealing revelry of age old explanation. It cannot be the same as it was at Gwalior or even Old Delhi. Each living stays far behind in closed alleys and assembling those, leaves footsteps that cannever return.

Amitabh Mitra

Extract from:  Stranger than a Sun, Poems and Drawings – Collection of Prose poems and Drawings

Amitabh Mitra is a visual artist, poet and a medical doctor based in East London South Africa. He heads the Department of Emergency Medicine at a hospital in the township of Mdantsane. Stranger than a Sun is a semiautobiographical collection of prose poems and drawings.

i think of you many a times
of you and a summer
like many other summers
hustle of a retreating shadow
just before the dark
like an ancient rite
traveling
your touch remains
in an innate stone
carved on
such sky dotted days
a river once stormed in
a chimera blue evening
at gwalior
when you
told me of roses
named after your mother
and stars in gorges
of the fort
of forests in
laburnum laughter
of many others
still afloat
and
since then
i had named you
my words
and every stop street
that relinquished itself
every sun birth that lived
has been only you
and nights that stayed back
still remains you
every stoneburnt campaign years of the fort
is you
every eye in hesitation
of a reprieve
will be you
and you shall ever remain
the swirling
dawn curled
in dreamscapes of
such long summers.

my lips have tracked in
unison on your neck
you and
age old rivalries on such a savage
day

Amitabh Mitra

A Poetry Film by Amitabh Mitra. Based on the above love poem

an evening creaks in
touching shadows with a tinge
of smile
a slow release laughter
aloe and wild grass shake to
jazz moments
tiredness breaks its shackles
ran the curves of a distant sun
words lost its way home
as usual
a poem unwound itself
from an angle of your eye
mdantsane bursts itself in a mayhem
of another carnival night.

Amitabh Mitra

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poem and Painting by Amitabh Mitra