July 2024 Issue

In silence, grows the moon
nimbus clouds roll the sky
goldfish in the waters
silently slip
between craigs that house oysters
silently nurturing cold moons

Red first, then the pale white of jasmine,
cotton rolls in a dispensary.
In summer, a wetness that arrives at dusk.
A moss forest, ferns old as time itself,
a sun hidden by monsoon clouds,

The bus can stop
Only if it arrived
If at all it comes,
It comes with a swollen stomach
Gasping, dripping saliva and goes away.
The village folk

After rumbling threats
clouds will push up flowers
we will eat for a season.
Not so far away
coal will be mined afresh by rats
for the just-elected regime,

After enduring a hundred blood tests, this time when you insert the needle, it’s not blood but a crescent moon that swells in the syringe. The stream that has silently flowed for so long, you place its slide under the microscope.

In prayer,
language of a body
puts its mind to sleep.
The most secular of all gesticulations.
Eyes shut meditatively
cloak the body with a personal silence.
Inert to priests.

What I knew as nothingness
ought to be my God
All the work is dull and clouded today
Among those clouds I remain a cloud
I love petty remainings, deep darkness
Read me again, I’m a simple moss

The Abandoned Cake
Mango-flavored, creamy, delicious;
wrapped in its sweetened spongy layers
A caring heart’s scintillating love.
The cake from the confectioner’s shelf
Mouth-watering sensuous irresistible

Sitting caused the death
Slouching in a flower Saurav has died because of its swaying
Because of startling bumblebees because of stealing the rainbow
In the fight for every inch in the sky Saurav has met his end
Saurav has met his end because of putting questions
Shivering on the rustling leaves at the height of darkness