Treasure Island

Pradip Chattopadhyay

(28.01.1961 / Kolkata)

In the Garden of Eden


Just after that pretty shower
Frivolously drenched the sunlit path,
I thought of taking a walk in the no-man’s park
To smell there the dampness rising from earth.
I tiptoed on the deserted walkway
Smelling of bleaching to prevent a fall,
Not a soul there even the leaves were quiet
But didn’t read much as they do bereft of wind.
The sentry at the gate sedated by lack of footfall
Possibly had locked himself in his small rest room,
These drizzles he thought coming off and on
Might deter the lovers who usually spoil his day.
I imagined in that eerie silence without a cricket’s buzz
Time had taken me to that time when God was all alone
Grappling to find solutions to his absolute solitude
And tearing hairs to find for himself something to care for.
And here I am Adam his first make in his own image
With God still working out a fairer version of himself
To give me company in this mythical garden of Eden.
I expected to see my Eve anytime round the mossy corners
Thought if she would be dressed like me or she would disrobe me
And then hand in hand we together would walk
To find the apple tree, eat the fruit and be banished….
Two lovers emerged from behind a bush still unhinged,
I had to leave as Adam had found her Eve.

Submitted: Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, July 23, 2013
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