Your name I’ve painted, In henna on my palm; As days and night spent, Your name is a blessed psalm; Your name I’ve tattooed, In ink on my heart too; Time and tide may pass, Your name will forever last. Anita Bacha
The woody scent of roast chestnuts fills my whole being again, after decades and so far away from Europe; I am at One Utama shopping mall in Kuala Lumpur; memories of my student days flashed in front of my open eyes like a collage of eventful occurrences.
It was my first winter in London.
In those times,the days were extremely short and dark.Snow piled up in heaps on both sides of the roads as my friend,Baba, and I struggled to pave our way to Holborn tube station. Curbed into two,shivering under my winter coat, a whiff of browning nuts made me jerk. I turned to my friend and asked – ” What’s the scent?’ “Roasting chestnuts” he replied, as he gestured with his chin at a black silhouette in the corner of the street. I could vaguely make out,in the distance,a man or a woman, shabbily dressed, occupied in front of a stove of burning charcoals.A light smoke raised as a cloudy mist around the stove, danced playfully in the icy air. We crossed the road. The alluring scent of roast chestnuts swelled my nostrils. Baba bought a small paper bag of piping hot chestnuts and ceremoniously offered it to me. I tasted the first roast chestnut of my life and I spontaneously became fond of this soft and delightful delicacy.
Baba took up a job at Knightsbridge for end of term and Christmas vacation. Among other lovely Christmas gifts, which he offered to me,I found a luxuriously wrapped box of ‘marrons glacés’ from Harrods.
After our law studies, we parted. We did not keep in touch but I still love chestnuts,roasted,candied or steamed.
It’s amazing how the sound of music or the whiff of a scent can bring to our mind souvenirs of cherished instances that we carry inside us and which,possibly none of us actually knows is there.
Take me with you, To a land where white flowers, Bloom in the night, Where moths freely die in the light, As I bloom and I die in your favors, Take me with you, Keep me close to you, As the scent of white flowers, Invigorates the breath of lovers, And I write with the ink of your eyes, These petals of poetry, Chaste as white flowers in the night. Anita Bacha
Autumn vibes are haikus I’ve written during the past few weeks,and sharing here. I am living on an island actually and here, we have only two seasons,summer and winter.Haiku poetry tickles the imagination and haiku lovers will find in these haiku poems illustrated with pictures, how very far the mind can travel, create and produce.
Haiku is a type of short form poetry, originally from Japan. Traditional Japanese haiku consists of three phrases that contain a kireji,or cutting word,17 on in a 5/7/5 pattern and a kigo, a seasonal reference.However, modern haiku vary widely on how closely they follow the traditional elements. I have this crush for haiku and I try my best to be in tune with the ancient haiku poets.
May this waiting draw to a close, my love! That very soon we are united at last, In a mad and passionate hug; My heart shall beat with your heart, Away our tears shall flow in abundant joy, Shall wet our parched lips of the grief, Of the pain of thirsting desires; That blessed under a starry night sky, Your breath shall melt with my breath, My eyes bathe in the clear pond of your gaze; Swept into the furrows of time and space, We forget the world, the universe, the Creator himself, We forget the intense longing, We forget the slow suffering, That shall exist for us only our guiltless love! Anita Bacha
( In the picture, my poetry book INK ! This book consists of 100 love poems and is available in my birth country, Mauritius. It is published by #Éditionsdeloceanindien , a newly- founded publishing house.)