Poetry at Sangam



A BLANK LETTER by Sudeep Sen

An envelope arrives unannounced from overseas
  containing stark white sheets,

perfect in their presentation of absence.
  Only a bold logo on top

revealed its origin, but absolutely nothing else.
  I examined the sheets,

peered through their grains —
  heavy cotton-laid striations —

concealing text, in white ink, postmarked India.
  Even the watermark’s translucence

made the script’s invisibility transparent.
  Buried among the involute contours, lay sheets

of sophisticated pulp, paper containing
  scattered metaphors — uncoded, unadorned,

untouched — virgin lines that spill, populate
  and circulate to keep alive its breathings.

Corpuscles of a very different kind —
  hieroglyphics, unsolved, but crystal-clear.