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Sankhajit Bhattacharjee Poem 258

Scientific Research Fellow in University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee

Security Guard

When a masked dacoit was about to press

the trigger, he jumped from the corner,

stood in front of the rifle, welcome the bullet,

embraced death...


He was one among the masked dacoits,

who came to loot Mr. Poddar's house that day,

when he was groaning in pain, they fled away.


Police arrived soon, opened the mask,

Mr. Poddar's son cried, 'Our security guard'.

Yes, the Poddar family knew him,

a responsible person.


Mr. Poddar lamented, 'He needs money...

he saves us'.


His son observed another person

sitting on the dead man's place

while he was entering into Central School

the following day.

© 2021 Sankhajit Bhattacharjee

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