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No baab tree

by Rinku Khumukcham
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By :- Dr. Nunglekpam Premi Devi

Still I remember, straight and branchy tall tree;
To those far off corner, corner of those courtyard square;
Slander as it stands, its bark so ugly and crunchy;
A homeland to chameleon variety; up and down
No naked eyes watch upon them: so quickly moved
A sucking field to bugs and moths and leaf miners;
No naked eye catches them so easily, too silently:
Green Leafy as she grows swings as she moves around;
With rhythmic gestures welcoming spring pat- pat-patter;
Oh! Its time spring her; let her wear ‘phanek’,
let her bloom flowers Let her bear ‘fruits’;
she adores a piece “a piece of clothe”
She’s painted and she’s cherished, with all her full bloom.

Flowers and her petals scattered, as I swipe
Alluring and attracting and sizing their duties;
Buzzing and buzzing and never forgets Bee and bees;
Clustering and gathering; talking and helping;
Her scents sweeter as she grows decaying scattering;
Fallen echoing the breeze, one and ten and hundred;
She branched too strong, her leaves too green tight;
She’s born with bulging eyes; round and swelling and spongy;
Amongst and between the twigs interlocking, brotherly and sisterly;
Week after week, it holds hugging tight her ‘mother’;
Week after week and after month; she falls that easily,
Happy I jumped; Alas! It’s too scary; it’s bitten and sucked out;
Never the bold ripe fruit; as it falls off
Never better the juicy one; as I open it out.

As she drops one and two no- baabs, I enjoy picking up;
Carving through hunger; cutting it pieces by pieces;
And smashing and smearing; salt and sugar and chillies;
And bowl and plates; I taste better as I prepared;
Ah! Its sour, it’s deeply sour and bitter and acidic;
My tongue’s so disrespectful; bitter, moody and grumpy;
Thickening and touchy and scratchy and uneasy;
‘She bears no man’s fruit’ exclaimed my father
She’s been cut down; her arms too short
Still she stands straight single, tall and weary;
Weird as she’s been marked; her no-baabs thrown away;
Decaying and Rotten; a hand reaches it selected and chosen;
Her ‘no-baabs’ not lesser than ground ball;
A great battle to watch upon played.

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