Let me measure my shadow. 
Has it overgrown me?
Has it become taller, lengthier, and obese ?
Everytime I climb up
I fight with my shadow.
It often doubles, beyond overgrowth;
it becomes taller than ivory towers.                                   
There may be science behind such whims
But my ethics prods the shadow to be humble,
to be small, and nearer the earth.  
Does my shadow resemble a frankenstein? 
I really don’t know
But when it creeps up the wall, and multiplies,
I shudder to think that the ivory tower is
slowly decaying, unnoticed.

Let me hate my shadow. 

My thoughts thrown into
a tabula rasa that fateful afternoon
one after another, -
anger, hatred, desire, love,
magnanimity, self, -
bounced back
grimacing.

You bid adieu finally
ignored.
My love didn’t arrive
My love left in disgust.  

The white cover brings out a shadow …

Do I have a body ?
Do I search a mind in the corpse?
and lust for life in those still eyes ? 


Sometimes I feel formless
Floating disjointed in this world
Unable to protest, unable to raise voice

I wanted to light hope
Candles of hope, but all went out
Now I carry with you lifeless white sticks 

I wanted to take you, me and
others up; up in dignity,
up in life and humanity 

But I am continuously descending down the stairs
With extinguished life and soul
Descending down,  formless.   

In you I see a shadow of myself …    

Anik Chatterjee, Kolkata, India