Revisiting 'Opur Sansar'

Nine years is a long time

some would say a life time

and yet Sharmila hasn’t aged.

Strange,

those about to smile eyes,

the strand of hair misplaced

a sidurer tip, so cozy.

My daughter rides her cycle

her new bell rings out loud,

louder than Apu’s train in fact

it hides the sudden tears

of a happy copulated screen,

suddenly gone Kafkaesque.

In the distance are scraps of little dreams

floating in 

from another’s novel-

destroyed, stamped over

adrift, on a strange hillock.

Apu resides there,

I'm told

alone, voiceless, mindless.

I stare at my walls-

in the yellow of an evening light,

a pig is dead.

I put on a switch

Kajal lit eyes screech in happiness.

I have always hated the word ‘sansar’,

did Apu smile at last?

I look twice, touch him on the screen

and smile back.

( Written on watching Ray's 'Apur Sansar' after nine years again last week)

© 2013 Maitreyee Bhattacharjee Chowdhury