B. S. Bir

B. S. Bir (b. 1947) is postgraduate in English and Punjabi. He edits monthly journals, namely 'Mehram', 'Haar Shingar' and 'Modern Kheti' published from Nabha. He has written, besides fictional work, poems and ghazals which have been collected in Prism de Aar Poor (2002), Surmel (2002) and Roshanian de Pyramid (2004). He has an inimitable style and expresses his views without any inhibition.

The Air Hostess

Whenever I travel by an aeroplane
the air hostess
welcomes me with a smile
her face blooms like a flower
And the lips are veritable rose petals.

Sometimes she feeds me
like the younger sister of my wife
while at times
she acts like a cup-bearer
never letting my cup go dry.

...and then like a cute nurse
she wraps me up in a blanket
and while bidding me goodnight
this fairy of the dreamland
tip-toes away
scattering dreams in my eyes.

...and then at my destination
she waves a goodbye to me
'Come again', she says
this doe-eyed girl
but never meets me again.

Still, the same air hostess
if she meets me by chance
in the waiting-lounge
or at the air-port
....like a stranger
she glides past me
...this pert girl
sleepy and drowsy
the fairy of the sky.                                     Air Hostess (2002)


The Third Calamity

In the verandah
of the gynae ward
a grandmother
is lulling to sleep
her two grand daughters
lying on her knees
as she mumbles a prayer
to the great Guru.

...she opens her eyes
at times
but soon she shuts them up
engrossed as she is
in her contemplaton of the Lord.

I just interrupted her silence
and asked...
'Bebeji, what are your musings?'
she said-
'It's the third delivery
of my daughter-in-law
the last one
after the caesarian operation
so I pray to god
to be merciful to us'
I asked again
'What do you pray for?'
she replied
'Both of these
are the sweet fruits
and the divine glory
dwells in them
welcome we do
whatever is portioned out to us
but at this time
apprehensive we are
of the third calamity.

So saying
she again started patting fondly
the heads of both of them
felt soaked in the shower
of maternal blessings.

...and the lady doctor standing nearby
exclaimed, with all the reverence
for the old lady-
'Praise be to the Lord
for this wonderful universe.'                                 Teesri Museebat (2002)