WHEN I KILLED THREE TONGUES

February was catching warmth!

A Sunday!
A holiday of celebration
often extempore,
inspired three
to compel me to cook
matured Hilsas
in burning mustard!

And what else I could do!
The dacoity was irresistible!
Freedom was at stake,
cooking then was evident.

I picked up a pan
of half the size of
the laundryman's tub...
frequently wondered
fry like hell or boil first,
or simmer on oil
or think...
and think...
I tampered the deads
with turmeric,
gently and calmly,
then salted their
yellow meat...
But oh!
The salt was more:
I knew not what to pour!
Tragedy could have instigated
agony in my friends
who knew not me-
a fool or a chef!
I emptied the bowl
into a bucket of water
the salt all removed
...
but oh!
where's the turmeric?
Phew! All vanished
like Holi's colours,
and the pieces looked
bathed and handsome!

I repeated!
Mustard spiced up
the tale,
three green chillies
were my guests,
one ginger
their little assistant;
onions might have
done their job!

I fried and fried-
Hilsas emitted their egos
in valuable steams
and I watched them
getting dressed
for three
stupid gourmets
waiting still!

The shameless neighbours
waited like grasshoppers!
The mustard assumed
camouflage
and everything looked fishy:
no one knew where
the smart fishes were!

Finally, I broke some coriander,
sprinkled some unknowns
and did some added stunts
on the bowl of fishes

I did some usual speech:
A little more garlic 
would taste better! 
And when they bit
at their fishes,
all I could hear was:
.........
Silence on some
deeply irritated,
and motionless tongues-
faces disfigured,
hands in quiet protests
and
just silence...

I realized 
I just killed three tongues!


(First poem of ART AND POETRY SERIES - a nomination-poetry chain event on Facebook, nominated by Suparna Roy Choudhury.)