Siddhanjan pens a poem in Bengali, as a tribute to Nabaneeta Dev Sen, a prominent litterateur, which has been trans-created by Padmaja, an exclusive for Different Truths.

A Veranda of Love –
I had too
No longer do I step in there –
A veranda in the north
An altar has been set
A host of deities have found their space there –
Love has taken its leave of this veranda,

My veranda now open out to the seaside,
Some days, a room upon 5th floor,
Mind dwells upon the holiday spirit,
A cup of hot tea,
My legs propped up
Upon a battered ottoman
A cigarette between my fingers
As my mind wanders
Far and beyond.

My early days spent in North Kolkata
In one of the small apartments
A small veranda
The newspaper boy in the morning
Chucking the rolled up newspaper at
Our second floor home
Looked down to see
How he aimed up so high with such prowess.

Friends calling out
from any of the windows
A group of boys at the football field –
Restless me,
Running down
to join them for the game,
The neighbourhood aunts knitting –
Winter afternoons,
Tea flows,
poured out into
Warmth filled –
In earthen cups from any of the homes …

Rain-drenched, grey days,
Soaked to the bone –
At the veranda …
Waterlogged,
Washed-out roads –
And our idyllic paper boats,
The stolen ashes –
The cigarette smoke, drifting through the veranda –
with doors closed behind.
Afternoons spent
Idling and chatting –
With friends,
at the veranda,

I had a veranda
Laden with Love …
As had Nabaneeta…
Stay warm,
My veranda
My abode of Love…

Trans-created from Bengali by Padmaja Bose

Photo from the Internet