The Third Eye Poem by Jasbir Chatterjee

Do you know?
A camera can be one’s third eye...
It notices things we don’t see with our own eyes.

Recently, I happened to pass by
A Palash tree, slim, leafless, tall,
With red, passionate flowers on each branch,
Like flowers in a beautiful woman’s hair,
Standing gracefully under a benevolent, smiling sun,
Flirting with the naughty, playful breeze.
I was fascinated and clicked a picture...

Excitedly, I looked closely at the photograph.
Yes, it was the same Palash tree, slim, leafless, tall,
With red, passionate flowers on each branch,
Like flowers in a beautiful woman’s hair,
Standing gracefully under a benevolent, smiling sun,
Flirting with the naughty, playful breeze.
But it showed one more thing I had not seen with my own eyes...

A nest of small twigs
Wedged precariously between intertwining branches,
A desperate, overworked, mother bird feeding her little babies...