April 15, 2008 at 5:27 am (Poetry, Shiladitya Sarkar)

  Underneath a sun swept milieu, pictures copulated like snakes. At dusk, the same images turned into shrivelled skins. Watching, we laughed; our smile shaded into the evening light. After the crowd thinned from the show, we too decided to move some place else. We hunted, changed tracks, and left behind the familiar signposts that led to our doors. All for another beginning, we smelt of beehives, we stuffed new names within our cramped hands. We talked.


The listless moon watched us. Seeing us conversing, the stars smiled. They knew how soon we would grow into an ancient typeface if stray voices seeped into us. Seeing us gnawing on byte-sized beliefs the storyteller also laughed; he knew too, surely, we would puke in front of the victory stand after shouting out our hurrahs. Inside the womb of our waiting, imaginings alone bore the fatigue of lost tongues.


Hovering like diligent red ants, we still carried images inside the irises of the onlookers. Seeing us on the move, they parted their lips in a strange smile.  They whispered about death amidst rose gardens.  Meanwhile, slapped left and right, our voices clawed on graffiti stained walls. Our blotchy hands shuffled yellowing oath papers. And the pictures re-aligned all to a new order of alphabet. To talk again, simply, without colouring the wounds, without forgetting the commonplace.


– Shiladitya Sarkar







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