Once in Sundarbans

Swati Goswami

He looked at the fire that lit up his face,

He was seasoned and brawny.

Deep in thought he sat and stared

At the orange, crimson licking flames.

The forest around him was dark and silent

Only the red parakeet and the proud peacock

Flutter and scream occasionally

Trees carry the echo through the dark jungle.

The restless monkey is shaking the mangrove

He is sending out warnings of some kind

There is a speedy rustle in the nearby shrub

And a yellow black pattern just scurries.

Patches of silver moonshine filter

Through the dark green leaves

The scurrying shadow is creeping low

And halts behind the old tree trunk

The glassy yellow eyes are fixed and firm

the flaming fire is brighter than ever

the man is aware of the beastly presence

he silently leers and clutches his bludgeon

the beast is strong yet feeble

the wound in his paw is fresh and sour

he takes a last look at the fire and the man

and decides to return to the thicket.

Sw