In this Gopal’s haibun, for DifferentTruths.com, valedictory echoes of summertime love meet profound, luminous, and soul-stirring snapshots of eternity.

We come out in the sun and walk along. You pick up my last letter and start reading. You read it aloud. Each word is said slowly, so nothing drops out. I pluck a red hibiscus from the roadside plant and place it against the sunlight to see what’s left, what’s assured, and what can be forgiven.

We carry the letter and the flower down the square. We touch our hands. They are cold even in the month of June. You will now cross the road and go to the other side to take a bus that goes to the station.

summertime
the shape of love
uncatalogued

One by one, we release our hands and smile back; you walk across and walk alone. A wafture, an assuaged goodbye. I know the door is closing. Not sure if we will meet at all in the future, I wait for destiny’s plea.
 
you are still around
somewhere close
I sit here silent

Picture design by Anumita Roy

Gopal Lahiri

Gopal Lahiri, a prolific bilingual poet, critic, editor, writer, and translator, has 32 published books, including eight solo/jointly edited volumes. His poetry and prose grace over 150 global journals and anthologies, with translations into 18 languages across 17 countries. Nominated for the 2021 Pushcart Prize and 2025 Best of the Net, he earned the 2020 Setu Excellence Award and 2024 First Jayanta Mahapatra National Award. His work features in the Penguin Book of Poems on Indian Cities.

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