In Cold Spell, Just For A Little Warmth! Poem by Khairul Ahsan
In Cold Spell, Just For A Little Warmth!
My city, Dhaka, is in cold spell now.
As in most other countries,
January is the coldest month here.
Yet, our cold is nowhere near yours,
My dear friends, who are now reading
This poem in snowing lands, far and near.
Our day-night temperature varies
From 15C-8C or 60F-45F, which,
by your standard may not be cold,
But this much cold makes us shrink
From some of the routine chores.
Yet I much prefer this to hot humid days.
In these days we get an array of good
Winter vegetables, like cauliflower, tomato,
Culinary herbs, cabbage, carrot and potato.
Parsley, coriander and onion leaves add flavor to
Vegetables curry. Cold date juice and hot, smoky
Rice cakes will be there, as morning delicacy.
The mornings are dense with fog, the sun is hardly
Visible until noon. As the days are short, a day-nap
Is not easy to afford. Morning or evening walks are
No more comfortable, as cold air passing through the
Nostrils causes tonsillitis. Room heaters are not used,
So the bed gets cold, but not so much, if you are here.
Human bodies are good conductors of heat.
When I slide under the quilt, my cold feet search
For yours. As they touch, I turn and stretch out
My left arm, which you gently make your pillow.
The bodies are set in warm embrace, in the dark.
Our heads covered by the quilt, yet our eyes meet.
As I embrace you tight, I can hear the dew drops fall
On the leaves of trees outside. I can hear the muted
Conversation of the birds in the trees. They have no
Warm quilt, perhaps they too share their body warmth.
The distant woofing dog, the screeching bat, and the
Hooting owl, they all crave just for a little warmth!
amazing descriptions I would like to see the words flow a little better but perhaps it would flow fine if you were the reader.As my reading style differs.I was almost waiting to see the blankets heat generate in expression your satisfaction and comfort. Instead the words still left me feeling the cold and wondering how to find solace in it. II felt sorry for the character instead of renewed.
Thank you for the colour and your warmth in these words even though it is sooo.... cold. When here we are having huge bushfires in a blazing summer with 52 homes lost just in one superb. You have documented your words so well. Thank You
I am so glad that you've read my poem, Lyn Paul, and shared your thoughts here. Much inspired by your kind words.
The distant woofing dog, the screeching bat, and the Hooting owl, they all crave just for a little warmth! it conjures in my mind a spoonful of warmth that would do when the need is intense and the cold is brutal. Lovely isn't enough to describe the beauty of this poem.
'Lovely isn't enough to describe the beauty of this poem' - thank you, @Pradip Chattopadhyay, for honoring this poem with such a high appraisal. I am much inspired by your kind words.
Beautiful images come to mind as I read your words. Mornings dense with fog - I love the fog; it is mysterious and has a singular beauty. You are fortunate to still be able to grow vegetables - not here - just ice cubes! It has been unusually cold with quite a bit of snow. But I grew up in Chicago, IL, so I am used to brutal winters. And you are so right - body heat is the best way to stay warm and cozy (and it's fun!)
Thank you so much for your heart warming comment, dear Lorraine Colon. Much inspired. I've just read your beautiful poem - 'In A Corner Of My Heart' and left a comment there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 5:54:15 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Khairul, could you please loan me your wife? (or is it a dog? ; oh, you DID write human bodies) for just tonight? please? it is going to be cold and i don't want to use the gas in the furnace! actually, here in northern california, near the ocean, it is roughly the same range of temperatures as you quoted, with a little wider range. MY wife insists on me wearing socks. i was not impressed with this (until the last two stanzas) as a poem, though it was an interesting bit of reporting on life for you in Dhaka this time of year. i was getting hungry reading about the food. i think at my sister's winter home in florida, they have had some days colder than here. back in her summer home, in upstate New York State, the citizens have had the terrible cold you allude to. we also have fog at night. not that I usually see it! thanks for sharing. don't hate me TOO MUCH for not thinking of this as a poem. bri :)
Thank you, @Bri Edwards, for your critique. The last line first. No question of hating. Honestly, I too feel this poem to be not much of a poem, except perhaps, the last two stanzas. For rest of the comment, no comment.