-Shyamasri Maji

You asked me several times

The brand of my perfume, you

Even searched my jewelry box

And made a long face when all

Your suspicions went wrong like

A morn that couldn’t tell the day

You never believed me when

I said that jasmine is a mind-tree

It grows inside me, in my mind,

Loaded with floral fragrance

In my soul, it grows to live

I water the sapling every day

With wishes that soar above the

Uterine walls of this burnt house

I sing a lullaby every night,

To the tree born in my mind

I am a mother, ’tis my child

Though you tell me endlessly

that I am a childless woman

About Shyamasri Maji 

Shyamasri Maji is an Assistant Professor in English at Durgapur Women’s College (affiliated to Kazi Nazrul University, Asansol). Areas of her research interest include Diasporic Studies, Postcolonial literature and the Anglo-Indian community. Her articles have been published in international journals such as Antipodes, Indialogs, Doc On-Line, International Journal of Anglo-Indian Studies and Third World Thematics (Routledge). She writes short stories and poems in English, some of which have been published in Muse India (“The Nettle Leaves”), Six Seasons Review (“Maya’s Apartment”), Story Mirror (“The Birthday Party”), Setu (“Skin Poems”), Kolkata Fusion, Indian Periodical and Teesta Review.

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