What Is Purely Pure? Poem by PARTHA SARATHI PAUL

My mother speaks in Bengali.
My mind speaks in English.

But English is not like French
Spanish, Latin or Sanskrit.

Like a kaleidoscopic of color
it wears many Halloween masks
with its soul made of a heterogeneous mesh of souls!

I have seen many love at first sights
straying into an astray or a blind alley
or ending in a frustrating labyrinth.

I laugh to myself
while reading As You Like It
while Rosalind in disguise is busy
in teasing the poor Orlando!

Practical jokes in a real life
mock at sheepish theories.
Shakespearean wisdom
now flashes a monkey smile!

Milkmen and women know it well
how much water is added to the white fuel.

Whose mind is but a prostitute- -
a flower, a thorn and even a sharp weapon?

Paragons of tragedies
show their yellowish teeth at baggy comedies!