A Babelian Pallette

What brush do I use

if not words

when polychromatic tongues

paint me in their hues

Crimson Bangla buried deep,

flowed quiet in the veins,

beneath the sun soaked epidermis

আমার প্রাণের ভাষা শিখে ডাকে পাখি পিউ

Bangla, placidly drifted, hidden

beneath the other tongues –

till she revealed herself

in the fertile green of a matured sun

in the courtyard of childhood

seven colours played,

तू जहाँ जहाँ चलेगा

मेरा साया साथ होगा

the rainbows of life –

friends and playmates,

shared lunches or kabaddi

brown and ochres on uniforms white

claimed a space in the

flowchart of time

yet English sparkled

irradiscent, multicoloured

structuring the faiths,

and the visible mien,

weaving dichotomies,

fab india cottons and fulia taant

and a world full of Plath

Kafka, Atwood or Achebe

all across the globe, they

housed in my mind,

shaped up my world

a bit of maithili here, or Assamese

and even splashes of French

Punjabi, Kannad, Tamil

made me friends,

yet,

limited potential…

i learned nought

…

But

That

each language is a home

a riot of colours

And

a polyglot – a harlequin soul

*

Image: BBG Tilak