Bluetooth in our bodies

Bluetooth in our bodies

Original text by Sreedeep; translation from Bengali by Sunayani Ganguly

virtual you are
like the ancestral homeland in the east of partitioned-Bengal
now identified solely on the google map

touch-pad mitigated navigation-skills take me closer to destinations, unknown

i browse the peaks and plateaus of far-off physical offerings

a speedy zoom-in breeds proximity

you keep me awake in the awareness of a touch-friendly-coma

        in a divided state, where we shed nothing other than the burden of  baggage, unwanted


the distance between you and me… four hours from now and a few more stations

sampark kranti is the name of the trail

scalding sips leave a scorch footprint down the throat

the tongue cells squeak like a just butchered animal thrashing by the blade

       smear and soothe them in softness
       let my savaged cells find some instant solace


an overnight train is all it takes to backpack and reach

i pick-up the shaving kit
the camera
some tissue papers
a bottle of perfume
and tickets to my destination

deep inside your cozy bedroom echoing with riverine sounds
you embrace the wrapped up physical package, just arrived

you reach out for your due
you appreciate that I am able, unhurt and intact

you cut the straps, pluck the vain, tear open my outer skin
be assured, the delivery meets the blueprint
and adjust me subsequently in positions desired

fluids flow
throats perch
elevation of the arousal is often swallowed by your pacific oral-depths

      grinding wheels on metal tracks drown the sounds of breaking tide

      orgasmic outcomes drench passing abundance


fragrant with your sultry sweat, your lingerie
constantly checks you out up-close
                    your repose, your slumber and the sudden urge

it witnesses the gaps, hyphens and pauses illustrated by your moist murmurs

it embosses its mark on your skin as you float in the limbo of post coital unfurling
    that I can never match

envy forces my fingers to tear in
          i morph into the innermost layer that you can possibly wear


i walk out
with nothing but fading memories in my bag

i break open a coke-can, open the cab-door
i land jaded at the office desk on a Monday morning

my pockets empty, not of wallet, loose change or the cell phone
but, innumerable rail tracks, overhead cables, rusting iron wheels
and buried under them all
        a waiting-list
        with my mention on it


invitations tempt me

i revisit my city on the sly
i find it shrouded in shades of fleecy cotton candy, spiced with the zest of bunked classes

infancy cloaks itself in a shroud of innocence
with one nervous gulp, it takes the center-stage
while the anxious youth hovers near the podium of allurement, curated well in advance

the holy river ride is stripped of devotion
we float on the river blooming in rain
and slip through the shivering shadows of iron bars on the water-weeds

the boatman poses on the edge
       a crown of dark sweat adorns his brows
       biceps bulge with each pull of the oar


after committing all the coveted crossing-overs
i seek sanctuary in a small town alley, dense with the puff of burning coal

deep-fried sounds of evening snacks span-out in dingy cow-shades
aroma of over-fried local-junk chokes the vicinity

nearby soccer stadium holds its breath, waiting for a maiden Messi-like-hatrik
with hesitant foot-steps, right then, an 18-year-old makes her appearance
near the door where dreams are sold

she dribbles her way through familiar masks

        the penalty at the Dream Girl Parlor is waiting for her to score


i too must remain a stranger

here, a new face, sparks off a rally of questions
neighbors slip, into the grip, of irreverential curiosity

you egress first, i follow
at a safe distance
we meet, according to the plan, on the last steps of the deserted dockyard
shadowed and remote

chartbusters from recent blockbusters blare out from an unfamiliar window
"nijer mukhoshe nijeke dhaki"

another aircraft in the horizon lurches a sudden landing arch

          we activate the bluetooth in our bodies
          to make do with a minimum words


that the universe is made up of mysteries
doubts and evidences
strange beliefs and disbeliefs – is what the physicists claim

the curriculum, entirely covered by black holes of impossibility
drives a million dollar empire of doubts
           on origin and extinction


i, the perpetual migrant
fuelled by curiosity, constantly seeking ever-new expeditions
out of expertise or experience, fire my rockets
send in space navigators exploring the labyrinth of known and unknown bodies
         yours shake with tremors of explosive pleasure

the puritan reader avoids it with suspicion

sage parental advice borders on threat
asking my language to either autocorrect or face repeated 'ctrl-z'

          only you, the one among many others
          reach for the wonders of a universe beyond
          escalating on mindless cosmic pleasure


the shadows of hands cove closer over fruits of desire

blue-teeth-marks blemish the soft skin

parts of it are separated from its whole, and swallowed
the rest follows, in small, bite-sized, pieces

       likewise, in small pieces, your hesitations come off
       as I inflict my shadowgraphs over your bare grids

take a stroll around the deep-scar named desire and you may discover
innumerable seeds of intimacy


we wait for the night to grow even darker

you come closer and caution "let mom put out the lights in her room, first"

in dense darkness our fingers gather vision, bodies gain sight

on the edge of completion, we withhold our climaxes to stretch the visuals, longer

      in silence, you swallow your passionate moans, and another i–pill
      and yet another secret carnal campaign


then the bogey of craving enters an arena of momentary pause, correct to the second
and departs for the next terminal, true to the percept of non-acquisition
honest to an unending intended exodus

it approaches straight ahead with a supersonic roar
on parallel paths of yearning laid on the grounds of illusory apatite
towards the anticipation of a new frenzy
closer to another doorstep
            where quivering apprehension for a touch holds more thrill than the touch itself


the corpse stiffens, exhales rotten smell
once cremated, turns to ashes

burial is a better way to deal with the memory of the disposed

read the sound of loose pebbles and memoirs showering on your coffin

clout of the firm timber shall salvage you from inevitable injuries

but I shall recur, nevertheless, to scare you in your own grave

and after I am gone, the roots of the daunting recollections will pierce
through layers of your stiff resistance
        seeking sustenance
        invading private creeks of your cold assets to satiate yet another colossal craving

~ Sreedeep is the author of three poetry compilations  – Shoreer Street, Premer Mini-Pack, Bhromonabhishar. He is an independent photographer whocompleted his doctoral studies in Sociology from JNU. He is currently a Fellow with the C-PACT, Shiv Nadar University.
~ Sunayani Ganguly completed her masters in comparative literature from Jadavpur University. Based in Kolkata, she has been professionally involved with the translation of literary works, script-writing and copy-writing. 
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