For My Father

Sometimes,
When I hear a song
That you would’ve loved

Something tears up inside;
At your listening, silenced

And if the release date precedes your death
I wonder if you had heard
In a casual
Or a secret
Or a forgotten hearing

Which you misplaced from getting home
Like your other gift songs

But when I see a copyright and published date
That is after December 1995
It is a funny feeling indeed

A song unborn at the time of your going
And yet a song that simply demands,
In fact is, your listening

And I wonder how this song can be
Without the hearing that brought
Bengali songs to life for us

Be that as it may,
The moot point remains:

That more than in the celebrations
More than in the festivities and
The birthdays and
The weddings and the
Structured memories

It's in these songs
Unheard by you
That you come alive

In all my rooms