THE CLOTHES IN THE CUPBOARD

THE CLOTHES IN THE CUPBOARD

By Mousumi Biswas 

Looking like Old Mother Hubbard,

I stared at the pile of clothes in my grey steel cupboard..

The cupboard wasn't bare

The clothes had many woes to share

Stacked precariously doing the balancing act,

Pulling out one , leaving the other, would need a lot of tact.

The green dress followed the white net , like an inseperable twin

Falling on the ground with a thud, making my head spin

"You've forgotten me ," lamented the purple tanchoi gown

"Oh yes," I apologised with a frown

"Its suffocating here," the blue khadi shirt protested

" We need to breath fresh air , " the maroon stole assented .

The sarees wished to see the sun

The jewellery box on the top shelf enjoyed all the fun .

The blouses and jeans at my girth bantered ,

" Are they right? , " I always wondered

My clothes are waiting for a long drive with me

A trip to the mountains , river or sea

But now in lockdown and retired

In tracks and pyjamas I am attired

Delhi

Copyright Mousumi Biswas