By
Pijush Kanti Deb
Me and My Hands
When my hands duly deserve
Some more layers
To add to their strength and capability
I feel something common
To use them in embracing my girl-friend
Assuming
My entities are well saved in her custody
When my hands are beckoned
By some weak shoulders
And moist eyes
I check my hands and shoulders
But find no extra place beside my family And their due hopes and aspirations
When the sun discloses
The shedding of nectar from the sky
And its prompt disappearing
Falling into a few mouths only
My hands are turned into maces
But my ever-cautious mom
Calls me back to my dining room
And I lose my world to my alluring dishes
When the huts are knocked down
By the skyscrapers
In a got up match
And the winning whistle is blown for
The violators
I fill itching in my hands
But my girl-friend grips me tight
So tight that
I can’t remember
the luminous freeness of light, air and sky.
That’s our Gentleman
Mom’s affectionate direction
“Straight to school and return straight to home, no wandering’”, I observed and enjoyed her cheerful exclamation, “That’s my son!”
Boss’s corporate direction
“Straight to file and client and return Raising the profit margin, No cheating”
I observed and gained another joyful exclamation “That’s my racing horse!”
Wife’s passionate direction,
“Straight to office and return straight home, No outdoor party”
I observed and enjoyed the final exclamation “That’s my hero!”
My own diplomatic direction
“Do whatever you like to do
But straight home
Washing carefully your hands and mouth,” I observed already and got the universal exclamation, “That’s our gentle man!”
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