{"id":969,"date":"2016-07-23T16:17:02","date_gmt":"2016-07-23T16:17:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/staging\/?p=969"},"modified":"2025-12-31T19:36:42","modified_gmt":"2025-12-31T19:36:42","slug":"saad-nizam-muzumdar","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue28\/saad-nizam-muzumdar\/","title":{"rendered":"Saad Nizam Muzumdar"},"content":{"rendered":"

 
\n(Excerpts from the forthcoming collection, \u201cEchoes from the Hills\u201d)<\/p>\n

1.’Twas the Night Before <\/h3>\n

 <\/p>\n

Massive milestones skipped<\/p>\n

Atop the backs of ripples<\/p>\n

Rushing in a pond\u2015<\/p>\n

The little pebbles scattered<\/p>\n

Along the pondshore.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The pond has frozen over, and I<\/p>\n

Have walked across it\u2015or<\/p>\n

Felt I have.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

There goes a chime at this midnight hour\u2015<\/p>\n

 <\/em><\/p>\n

Who rings at this hour?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The wind whispers at my window,<\/p>\n

But it is not the voice<\/p>\n

I\u2019m familiar with.<\/p>\n

It is a new voice, bred<\/p>\n

From eavesdropping atop<\/p>\n

The eaves of a dark, slender steeple,<\/p>\n

Dressed in a white lace gown<\/p>\n

With a long tail that hangs from the eaves,<\/p>\n

Dropping but not touching<\/p>\n

The grey cobbled streets,<\/p>\n

Where women in great brown coats,<\/p>\n

Collars popped,<\/p>\n

Swish and slosh galoshes<\/p>\n

In a sprinkling of snow,<\/p>\n

Having their every word captioned\u2015<\/p>\n

Visually captioned in white mist<\/p>\n

Under the yellow fog of a winter dusk.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

There comes another at this midnight hour\u2015<\/p>\n

 <\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/em><\/p>\n

Chime!\u2e3aChime!\u2e3aChime!<\/em><\/p>\n

Who rings at this hour?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The house breathes the laughter of people,<\/p>\n

Who with bobbing heads float<\/p>\n

From room to room,<\/p>\n

Kitchen to couch,<\/p>\n

Conversation to conversation.<\/p>\n

Resurrected stories pinch childrens\u2019 cheeks,<\/p>\n

Turning them red.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Get some more plates\u2015more plates!<\/p>\n

Drinks swirl in cups as dizzy people twirl,<\/p>\n

The envious falling flakes watching from<\/p>\n

The window copy their graceful dance.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Uncles with aunts have arrived alongside<\/p>\n

Aunts with uncles\u2015and little bundles<\/p>\n

Of cousins to add to the heap<\/p>\n

That has spilled over into a blur of<\/p>\n

Fusion-propelled, constant, rambunctious motion,<\/p>\n

Like the wisping waltz<\/p>\n

The translucent grey of chimney smoke<\/p>\n

Performs on this boisterous night,<\/p>\n

When all hearts pound in silence.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

    \n
  1. Marriage Morning<\/em><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n

    The winter sun\u2019s afraid to cry;<\/p>\n

    Its tears freeze before they can leave the eye.<\/p>\n

    O, beam into my eyes and fall through<\/p>\n

    The yellow fog of my mind!<\/p>\n

    My heart has already been illuminated.<\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n

    The sun is tired as it crawls out<\/p>\n

    From its dark, earthy blanket.<\/p>\n

    The sun is embarrassed\u2015marriage morning\u2015<\/p>\n

    And nearly late; its cheeks have turned red<\/p>\n

    At the sight of the fair, frigid wind<\/p>\n

    Blowing a kiss.<\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n

    From my window, I see<\/p>\n

    A new dusting of snow atop dark roofs<\/p>\n

    \u2015a heather-coloured nether\u2015<\/p>\n

    The great sky has thrown itself over a couch.<\/p>\n

    We are below its bodily weight.<\/p>\n

    How heavy?\u2015too heavy!<\/p>\n

    How heavy!\u2015too heavy!<\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n

    They sway with my stir.<\/p>\n

    They cover the granite floor.<\/p>\n

    I straddle my legs, wooden<\/p>\n

    Like oars, through the husks of shoes,<\/p>\n

    Waiting in port at the front door.<\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n

    III. The Golden Close of Love<\/em><\/p>\n

    Here comes the<\/p>\n

                            Father of the bride.<\/p>\n

    Here comes the<\/p>\n

                            Father of the bride.<\/p>\n

    Step\u2e3astop\u2015<\/p>\n

    Step\u2e3astop\u2015<\/p>\n

    Step\u2e3astep\u2e3astop.<\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n

    Pupils shimmer like the golden drinks<\/p>\n

    In every hand, swaying from side to side in story.<\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n

    The callous music, once stepping down the aisle<\/p>\n

    Like it were Gaston with ego-bloated chest,<\/p>\n

    Now whimpers in the faint echoes behind the beast\u2015<\/p>\n

    Wild laughter.<\/p>\n

    Joy beams with blaring light from every face.<\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n

    But past the round isles<\/p>\n

    of white-top tables,<\/p>\n

    Past the hands that hang out in points<\/p>\n

    And gestures,<\/p>\n

    Up upon<\/p>\n

    Some distance stage,<\/p>\n

    There sits the bride,<\/p>\n

    Who only sees<\/p>\n

    Her husband and a<\/p>\n

    World yet to be.<\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

      (Excerpts from the forthcoming collection, \u201cEchoes from the Hills\u201d) 1.’Twas the Night Before    Massive milestones skipped Atop the backs of ripples Rushing in a pond\u2015 The little pebbles scattered Along the pondshore.   The pond has frozen over, and I Have walked across it\u2015or Felt I have.   There goes a chime at this midnight hour\u2015   Who…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":5272,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-969","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue28\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/969","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue28\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue28\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue28\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue28\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=969"}],"version-history":[{"count":33,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue28\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/969\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5274,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue28\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/969\/revisions\/5274"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue28\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5272"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue28\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=969"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue28\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=969"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue28\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=969"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}