By Anustup Sengupta
There goes the Ragpicker,
“Give me your clothes: shabby and torn,
Mundane, dilapidated and shorn.
All your clutters with faded lustre”.
Tarry! Ye ragpicker,
Take away all those sans grandeur.
Broken toys, letters of blasphemy,
False accolades, there are as many.
No, I don’t want anything in return,
Just relieve me of these auburn.
Put this Stone also in your sack,
But keep that Clock back on the rack.
It, I will try to repair.
If not, there’s no despair.
From Red to Black missing the Blue,
The portrait too has changed its hue.
But O Ragpicker! Where do you shrug
Off all your rugs?
“I’m a Ragpicker, born of shun,
I have an ocean but none to churn.”
By Anustup Sengupta
Here is a poem composed, related to one molecular in worldly activities. To write such a poem associated with the trifling materials and activities of Ragpicker is seemingly a phenomena. The poet is engrossed with clock worn one. Question is valueless, whether the clock is functional but the poet will preserve it as a treasure. It has the essence of bygone days inherited from the forefathers. The clock is nothing but an identification of heritage that silently speaks the glorious existence of the poet’s golden childhood and bears the entity of the past. All current recognition, awards and even precious jewellery( a stone) are valued less and the poet is ready to sacrifice all his recognition, awards, earthly valued ones,…
Here is a poem composed, related to one molecular in worldly activities. To write such a poem associated with the trifling materials and activities of Ragpicker is seemingly a phenomena. The poet is engrossed with clock worn one. Question is valueless, whether the clock is functional but the poet will preserve it as a treasure. It has the essence of bygone days inherited from the forefathers. The clock is nothing but an identification of heritage that silently speaks the glorious existence of the poet’s golden childhood and bears the entity of the past. All current recognition, awards and even precious jewellery( a stone) are valued less and the poet is ready to sacrifice all his recognition, awards, earthly valued ones,…
Thought provoking.. really good..