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Upasana Banerjee Poem
I saw her walking down the aisle,
Her red hair untamed and wild,
Like she managed to trap the last rays of the setting sun in her locks.
Her sovereign face almost too small,
To hold the infinite of her eyes.
A childlike wonder dancing behind the veil of her lashes.
Her mouth set in an indulgent smile,
For she knows patience is a road seldom taken.
Yet she chooses to take the route time and time again.
My hand finds refuge in hers,
Like a thirsty wanderer savouring the taste of the very last gulp,
Before giving into his impending doom.
She dons the white like an armour,
A silent resilience in the face of fate itself.
Unwaveringly loving to every wound her body has sustained.
The onyx crown glistens in the flickering candlelights,
Its sharp edges soft to touch for the few who dared coming close.
Her black Excalibur has caressed more souls than it has pierced hearts.
I tell her it's no wedding,
That her body lay cold and her eyes forever closed,
To the world that had so much to give and a lot more to take.
Her eyes tell me story of a different time from a different world,
Where she's a new bride birthing hopes and growing greys,
Anxiously waiting to make love with life between the sheets of sorrow.
And I know,
I know, for as long as I walk this earth,
She lives in me as much as I die with her.
Copyright © Upasana Banerjee | Year Posted 2026
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Upasana Banerjee Poem
There were so many present today,
To pay their respects and
To bid you their final farewells.
Some expressed grief at your sudden absence,
Some took a fond walk down the memory lane.
Some left early having fulfilled their societal responsibility,
Some sat in silence, unable to articulate their many thoughts.
What about me, you ask?
I wondered.
I wondered what will it be like?
When I run out of the last of your favourite biscuits.
Or when the bedroom stops smelling of your aftershave.
When your loyal labrador is too old to go for a walk,
And when the flowers stop piling at your grave.
When the oak tree in the backyard withers,
And when they stop selling your treasured cigarettes.
What if our trusted tea shop around the corner closes down?
And all your shirt buttons start coming undone one by one.
I wondered.
I wondered what will it be like?
When everyone stops grieving,
When everyone moves on.
What will it be like?
When I lose you in the truest sense,
And I finally grieve in a world happy without you.
Copyright © Upasana Banerjee | Year Posted 2025
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Upasana Banerjee Poem
You've felt the love of our mother's womb - sleeping to the lullabies of our father.
Oh big brother, how cruel has fate been to deny me the pleasure of meeting you.
I exist because you didn't, therefore, I promise to live the life you couldn't.
Copyright © Upasana Banerjee | Year Posted 2025
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Upasana Banerjee Poem
'Cause all who wonder are not lost
Through the warmth and through the frost..
I wanna be trapped with sweet relief
Trapped with a million belief..
'Cause remind me this once more
All that glitters is not gold..
I am no saint, I am not pure
Look into my eyes, it's just an allure..
So love me till all these last
Stop the future and forget the past..
Love me like winter, feel me like spring
When the rain starts to pour, give me your wings
The autumn will come and go, revealing me to you
Shedding my guard and ringing me true..
At summer we'll take the last breath and mend our heart
Promises of being together, till death do us part..
When the seasons wipe out and the light comes on
You end your act, and the mask's gone..
You smile, you go into her open arms
She's tall, perfect and all charms..
I look on, never losing a smile
Acting my part, a part so vile..
I put myself to an eternal sleep
As you sow, so shall you reap..
There are no complaints, absolutely none
I'll look after you, till the heavens drown thy sun.
Copyright © Upasana Banerjee | Year Posted 2022
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Upasana Banerjee Poem
When death comes,
He will find me with a cup of tea,
Enjoying the summer evening rains.
He will find me with my favourite book,
Turned to the page I like the most.
He will find me with the radio on,
Playing a song very well a retro now.
He will find me in my mother's dress,
Draped clumsily on a whim.
He will find me with my father's pen,
And a blank notebook in the lap.
He will find me with our wedding photos by the bedside table,
And his cologne still saturating the sheets decades later.
He will find me with the memories of our children,
And the last conversation we had a month ago.
He will find me with anticipation and relief,
With a smile and perhaps a tear or two.
Death will find me willing and ready,
And a little nervous to meet the familiar 'ol friend.
Copyright © Upasana Banerjee | Year Posted 2025
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Upasana Banerjee Poem
I have things to do and places to be,
Burdens to bear and people to please.
I look not at the watch staring back at me,
For I shall be late to the morning tea.
I have so many conversations to make,
And very many promises to break,
I have to be at the graveyards and the cemeteries,
Then put on a smile and bring the kids pastries.
I have to look the sick in the eye and lie,
Beg them to hold on to false hope till they comply.
I have to make sure the last of the biscuits sell,
Then guide the birds back home when night befell.
I have things to do and places to be,
But let me rest a moment before it's time to leave.
Copyright © Upasana Banerjee | Year Posted 2025
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Upasana Banerjee Poem
I long to be the shore and feel your waves crashing on to me,
Waiting in patience to hold your anger till it subsides into peace.
I long to walk alongside you till the end of horizon,
And let the sunrise dawn upon us in holy union.
But, alas, I find myself in the middle of your hurricane,
Breaking away piece by piece to sink in your neverending hunger.
Copyright © Upasana Banerjee | Year Posted 2025
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Upasana Banerjee Poem
Walking by the broken bridge,
Your hand in mine and your eyes shut,
Unsure footsteps lagging behind,
Until I pull you forward with a tug.
That sigh of relief when you cross,
Looking back at what you've traded,
The hand in mine just a bit cold,
But firmly still in place.
"Be brave" I say laughing,
"It's just a little height" indeed.
You huff and stride ahead,
"I'll get there, you'll see" you promise.
"What have you got to lose?
What frightens you so?" I wonder.
"What if I fall?" comes a broken whisper,
"And what if you fly?" your eyes sparkle.
That day, witnessing your unwavering feet,
As you made your way to the bridge,
I felt my heart swell and constrict,
With equal parts pride and loss.
You look back one last time,
At all that you are taking with you and leaving behind.
"She fell" they shrieked in agony,
Choosing to mourn your broken hopes.
You indeed had nothing to lose, love,
"No. She flew" celebrating the wings that set you free.
You saw the world when it was blue,
So I gave up on trying to save you now.
Inspired by song: Listen Before I Go
By: Billie Eilish
Copyright © Upasana Banerjee | Year Posted 2025
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Upasana Banerjee Poem
At the very cusp of winter dawn,
Before the sun wake from slumber,
The narrow alleys lay bare and silent,
The moon slowly fade from existence.
It is at this hour when feet hit gravel,
Rushed steps race against time.
The winds carry distant heartbeats,
That of a woman barely nineteen.
The youth of her fragile soul,
Thunders against her bosom,
As she nears the clock tower,
Holding testaments across time.
A man barely out of youth,
Slips out of the shadows,
Their fingers barely grazing,
His own heart raging still.
A change of hands for the epistle,
Delicate letters weaving tales,
Of those not to be spoken in daylight,
Finding refuge in the solitude of night.
Copyright © Upasana Banerjee | Year Posted 2025
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Upasana Banerjee Poem
The man in the elevator was a plump rounded one,
The buttons of his suit almost coming undone.
He chortled with his might when I walked in,
His askewed moustache fluttering like a bee.
Whipping out a comb he brushed his hair barely made,
His oiled strands of four plastering on his head.
Next came the perfume which he sprayed with gusto,
While I sneezed and choked right in tow.
Pulling the belt barely up his tummy,
He cleared his throat quite like a dummy.
Off I ran into the closing doors with a slam,
Before his paunch held them back - followed by an "At your service ma'am!".
Copyright © Upasana Banerjee | Year Posted 2025
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