One Poem by Amlanjyoti Goswami


Inside an old Qualis jeep,
In the back seat.
Sponge coming out like Prof Calculus’ hair.
The fields still green after all the carnage.

We circled around the remains of day.
Burnt plastic, glass shards, a detached hand,
A heart plucked out, still beating.

We would make it, we knew, from hope.

Then I saw my friend, Martin,
Lying there,
Martin from schooldays,
Camps and late nights.
Martin who talked big,
Now, small as thirteen.

We stumbled through bumpy roads
and barricades with cops.

A church stood still, on the way.
A psalm hung in the air,
Like a premonition.


Amlanjyoti Goswami’s collection of poems, River Wedding, has just been published by Poetrywala. His poems have been published in India, Nepal, Hong Kong, the UK, USA, South Africa, Kenya and Germany, including the anthologies, 40 under 40: An Anthology of Post Globalisation Poetry (Poetrywala) and A Change of Climate (Manchester Metropolitan University, Environmental Justice Foundation and the University of Edinburgh). His poems have also appeared on street walls of Christchurch, exhibitions in Johannesburg and buses in Philadelphia. He grew up in Guwahati, Assam and lives in Delhi

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