Rice Boiler

We sit around the simmering rice boiler
Mother's worn out face knows no smile
My little brother falls asleep
mark of dried-up tears down his eyes
On the small, portable hearth
noisily simmers a handful of rice.

With hungry stare ofa tiger
we gaze with unwinking eyes
The fragrance of boiling rice
keeps us wide awake

Waiting and sitting around the rice boiler
thus passes off my childhood

by CHOUDHURI SUKUMAR

Comments (3)

I dare, finding most of his creations, for lack of the appropriate word califragilistic and mesembrianthemous.Non-American reader (there are a few of us) . H
no one here dare criticize this poet- this guy is a true poet, a genius and it just goes to show the state of the American reader that any of his poems could be rated poorly
Chectnuts roasting on an open rice burner...