Sourav Roy, translated by Carol Blaizy D’Souza
Granny and Flour
“From whole wheat
passing through broken wheat
and semolina
a little before maida
When the wheatish colour
is about to change to an inner, plainer one,
the wheat flour is born.”
A single drop of water
turns into light droplets of quicksilver
Moulding dough in the shells of her two hands,
Granny turns into a potter,
a farmer
Soils her hands
Tills land
Kneads flour
The young girl sitting beside her
writes with a dough chalk
“F” for flour
A ball, an elephant, a horse of dough
She plays with the toys
Then with the soft flour eraser
eagerly polishes off “H” for hunger
Then a fragrant aroma wafts from inside
Breathes life into ears
Roti-like inflating, deflating Granny
sings a moon lullaby
and the girl goes on sinking
into this kneaded world’s
softest dough!