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Poem

Debarati Mitra

Applied Mathematics

Two and two make four
I can\'t believe any longer.
Mixing two and two can breed a piglet
Or perhaps the Manhattan Project for atomic bombs.
There the sun is like a fish that escapes tearing the line
And disappears into the depths of the river
And that boy gathering cabbage
Following the horizon line in a parallel shadow
The trundling train advances
All signifying evening
But there\'s no connection between them.

A couple, a man and woman chatting for 45 minutes
Husband-wife, or ordinary lovers
They just can\'t be.
Not brother-sister, nor keya blossoms – Sravan month
But what then?
I don\'t want to calculate the wind
Or the watch.

If the colour blue is added to flight route of bird
Would the result be sky?
If a long sigh is added to the mirror\'s reflection
Would it be I?
All caterpillars + two wings
Aren\'t butterflies.

Having observed all these
My newly composed book of applied mathematics
I flung into the sky.
A senior star
Flitting through the pages, fluttered its eyes
Said: Atheist.

APPLIED MATHEMATICS

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Applied Mathematics

Two and two make four
I can\'t believe any longer.
Mixing two and two can breed a piglet
Or perhaps the Manhattan Project for atomic bombs.
There the sun is like a fish that escapes tearing the line
And disappears into the depths of the river
And that boy gathering cabbage
Following the horizon line in a parallel shadow
The trundling train advances
All signifying evening
But there\'s no connection between them.

A couple, a man and woman chatting for 45 minutes
Husband-wife, or ordinary lovers
They just can\'t be.
Not brother-sister, nor keya blossoms – Sravan month
But what then?
I don\'t want to calculate the wind
Or the watch.

If the colour blue is added to flight route of bird
Would the result be sky?
If a long sigh is added to the mirror\'s reflection
Would it be I?
All caterpillars + two wings
Aren\'t butterflies.

Having observed all these
My newly composed book of applied mathematics
I flung into the sky.
A senior star
Flitting through the pages, fluttered its eyes
Said: Atheist.

Applied Mathematics

Two and two make four
I can\'t believe any longer.
Mixing two and two can breed a piglet
Or perhaps the Manhattan Project for atomic bombs.
There the sun is like a fish that escapes tearing the line
And disappears into the depths of the river
And that boy gathering cabbage
Following the horizon line in a parallel shadow
The trundling train advances
All signifying evening
But there\'s no connection between them.

A couple, a man and woman chatting for 45 minutes
Husband-wife, or ordinary lovers
They just can\'t be.
Not brother-sister, nor keya blossoms – Sravan month
But what then?
I don\'t want to calculate the wind
Or the watch.

If the colour blue is added to flight route of bird
Would the result be sky?
If a long sigh is added to the mirror\'s reflection
Would it be I?
All caterpillars + two wings
Aren\'t butterflies.

Having observed all these
My newly composed book of applied mathematics
I flung into the sky.
A senior star
Flitting through the pages, fluttered its eyes
Said: Atheist.
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Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
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