There is a dictionary
Of impossible words
Which I seldom use
Yet, I keep it safe
Nearby
Everytime I hear
Words from distant places
Alien
To my telluric ears
I look up word by word
Page by page
Mostly the meaning
That is lost in translation
Sometimes sighs of my mother
As she carries the weight
Of unspoken sentences
And unwanted hatred, silently
From prying eyes
Who do not even care
Leeches sucking on blood
And sometimes I hear woes
Of friends and foes alike
As they subterfuge anger under smiles
And wrap up pain in swathes of glitter
I then try to read those words
Seldom spoken
Interpret their shape
But the dictionary isn’t meant to do that
I guess
Just some random words
And their five kinds of meaning
Blankly stare back
I coax for a bit more
But the words never change
Nor the spelt out frames
On which I built my world
Fragile, yet tenacious
At the right junctures
I keep that dictionary safe
Lest the world
Stops making sense at all
-Rianka Bose Saha
