Oh, Calcutta! (1)

The following poem is dedicated to Calcutta, the amazing city of rare wealth of talent and hospitality; and to my (late) friend Vimal Bhagat.

The poem was written in 1987, when I was guest of the well known thespian Vimal Bahagat for nearly two months, rehearsing the Pavel Kohut's play: POOR MURDERER. In 1993, on hearing the news of Vimal's death, on the first evening of my own production of D. L. Coburn's: THE GIN GAME with Pauline Hahn (ex Hollywood), as supper theatre at the Taj Coromandel Hotel, Madras, I had dedicated the performance to his memory with a brief announcement. And today I think of him, again!


Calcutta: The Dark Hour Of The Night

The dark hour of the night descends,
The hour of the cat and the assassin,
Of the silent lurkers hop-scotching
Over piss-runs from abused walls,
Ginger footing on jagged pavements;
It is the hour of fiendish screams
Of feline copulation on roof tops,
Of human sighs in sexual relief,
Or of semen trickling on silken thighs:
Coitus interreptus, clandestine; it is
The hour when motion thieves on stillness,
And stillness is death, or sleep.

(From The Unsung Log: Copyright Ronnie Patel)

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