Poetry, Jul '18
Rajib Chakrabarti on the twistedness implicit in straightening out the non-linear
Deprived of cakes we eat bread
and the drain inspector looks askance.
They believe we grow up on milk powder
invented in the West.
He’d faint if he knew a few hard facts –
a ubiquitous tenth of humanity;
black or white or anything in between;
even before women learnt to grow crops;
nature’s whims spare no age or clime.
Even sub-human species.
Emperor penguins abominably
bend in snow white bliss.
As feet go up and down on the pedals
the sunlight breaks on them –
a thousand priceless pieces;
the rocky ripples that clothe the bones
fuel conflict with revealed books.
The few sacrificed
for the good of the many.
Great souls with a flair for hallucinations
straighten the immutable
curvature of the universe,
and prescribe a life term of torment
to be followed by another
Photo credit: Pawan Dhall