Vignettes of a South African Township called Mdantsane

Monday, April 19, 2010

Didnt I tell you


didn’t I tell you
there would be a night
a sea
drifting to a far edge
of memory sand
and there would
still be darkness
in random corners
of our woven talk
we shall then merge
in numerous skins
on numerous streets
eyes hawking a breaking storm
when a colored moon suddenly
opens a sky to just another sea.

Poem and Watercolor by Amitabh Mitra

Sunday, April 18, 2010

When the sun broke in Mdantsane


a sun broke into many pieces
over cecilia makiwane hospital
that day
we all went out collecting pieces
patients held out their palms
colors camouflaged hopes and infections
yonela too smiled
somebody laughed out

Poem amd Watercolor by Amitabh Mitra

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Gary lives in Mdantsane, Poems of Mdantsane


gary laughed out aloud
there is a white man
in his cage
it must be raining down there in Newcastle UK
and the school teacher left his umbrella behind
ha! ha! ha! ho! ho! ho! ho!
rain trickled down his mind
in cold stillness
among his inflamed sulcis and gyris
till a river struck him
his eyes dilated at the strangeness of things
the knobbly tree of all things reaching for him...
today I wondered
even in his disjointed form
he happily gazes at consummation of mortal

Poem and Drawing by Amitabh Mitra

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Nights at Cecilia Makiwane Hospital, Mdantsane


and the child gasped
a caged wind screamed
noiseless of a last night whimper
trees swaying outside
in restless tribulation
I asked a late night
for an answer
yet a black sky

Graphite pencil and ink drawing by Amitabh Mitra

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Another day


an evening stained
with a hurtle of
unassuming talk
they diminish somewhere
close by
tomorrow would be
just another belief
of another

Poem and Pastel Drawing by Amitabh Mitra

Thursday, April 8, 2010



noorganj stayed in shadows
as a river broke the walls of the fort
climbed up
a strange smell of sweltering summer
and elderly women
on a wrinkled soil
stayed still
'badruddin gujar gayey
kab key
aur ayesha
chup ho gayi hai
chortled the river
I could only see her eyes behind
the burkha
hens rushed out
spraying colors to
a dead laughter.

Poem and Drawing by Amitabh Mitra
'Badaruddin had passed away long back and Ayesha doesnt talk any more'