A darkness was erupting like smoke
under the bush
the chorus of old agile Pravakar’s
bent back bone and disc prolapse
the tomb;a sylvan historian
witnesses all these and a lot more.
Amidst the pandemonium of the parliament
and withering manifestoes
a flower falls somewhere in Kalahandi
dreams slip like handicaps on the way
sleep like dried rivers
palsied people crawl for a meal
finding no help; Shira commits suicide
to live no life.A paralytic Chaitan Khuntia
waits for the pension to get love of others.
I still listen to the flute tune
sung in the orchard
the creepers buzz in them
the mango groove tilts abuzz
the earth murmurs as a plough man ploughs
the hymn echoes in me
live a life worth living. 26-12-2010
No comments:
Post a Comment