Escaping memories | Amit Kumar Das

How do you escape memories,
of a river that only split a childhood?
Memories of a nation he was born,
against one he found his home.

Wrapped in a saree,
against his mother’s chest,
under sacks full of red chillies,
he had escaped one frightening night.
Resonating screams from the shores,
piercing the night sky,
his early memories of a lullaby.

All stories of blood,
rests at the bottom of the river bed now,
Like shadows lost in a moonless night,
into the hazy rainy forest land.

Yet a kaleidoscope brings reflections of past,
time hallucinates, weaves yellow images,
of a drunk afternoon of death,
and a boat that escaped its shore in 1947.

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