la Buena Vida
A letter to a stranger
## PRITHA GHOSH
PUBLISHED ON August 16, 2017
There will be a day, when I’ll forget your name
But I haven’t just yet, afresh in my mind are those days of pain
All through these years of me growing up,
I remember how you stole from me, a brother’s dear love
Into all of those sinful memories , I lost every sense
Of the pure and the holy, the knot that I tied on your hand
I can remember how you had tried to lock your lips with mine
Up on the terrace, in the land my grand’s
You told me how as the years rolled by
“It’s fine, as long as a secret, I promise we would be alright”
Oh how deceitful was that little game
I wish today, that I’m seventeen
To slit the tongue, rip off those lips that had tricked and lied to me
If I’d really known, what’s right and what’s wrong
How the hell do you ever think you got the chance to feel my bare skin?
I had been naive I had been an idiot
To ever let all of it happen to me
The misery that lies, the despondency that surrounds all my memories
I want to erase and I want to blur you out
But before I do, let me first speak
The dirty spirit, the hands that had caressed my cheeks,
Now I know I’m precious, my love is too sweet
And I will never ever let you reach out to me
You deprived me of brotherly love, something I’d never received
Now buried under the grounds are you, but forgiveness is something you’ll never receive
Soft on the outside, with lust on your very mind
How? Just how do you do it? Please tell me.
Now I’m growing up and I’m shaping up
But I heard the story much later
Of how high you were one night
A couple of shots of beer and whiskey
You threw up in the bedroom, of my sister’s home
Disgusted am I to hear such tales of sly nasty.
If I’d known this before,
In the streets of Kolkata, you would never have held your hands with me
Little had I known, how you’d crave for your very own sister’s body
Sometimes I still wonder, where oh where had it all been?
All of that graceful monstrous thunder that has embraced me
Because now I raise hell in the waters
My mind is serene, but it does not listen to orders
With pride I live, my time too exquisite to be wasted on people who I hate
Take it, just take it back—-every thing that you ever gave
My mother had taught me when I was eight,
“Never accept gifts from strangers”
And that is exactly what you are to me
I never wanted to spoil, this piece of paper
That will carry this piece of poetry, until it goes into the flame.
I will end this right now, with much haste
Never in my life would I ever want to see that filthy gaze
Off of my diary, I let you go
So I’ll never see your face again, down my memory lane
I have no brother, what do you say?
Off of my diary, off of my life
You mysterious stranger, I’m not even sorry to sink you down the drains.