New post from Divyangana Bhadra
The winter crowd
It's again a busy day,
monday blues as we call it.
He fixed the tie only to feel a hindrance around his neck.
People with slouched shoulders, wrinkled foreheads
eyes on the logos of engagement.
The bitter sweet rays of the winter sun
illuminated her tired face.
Made her eyelids heavy,
From all of yesterday's late night-
The deadline madness.
Running in circles, people with geometric faces,
pied piper of life
Fast paced cars blowing off smokes
the city air is bristled with greyish dreams,
Heaviness of dirt settled on the
facet of leaves, the green-numbing cold
Of love, longing and hope
this crowd only dares to whisper.
A pause, a detour against the flow
brought me to this wonderland.
Flesh and bones – like an alchemist's art mingled into one
the night before, might be a lovers spat.
The sparrows are in the search of food,
cold breeze and chirpings cuts the silence
The joggers are on a routine journey
swaying to the forbidden tune.
The morning market is quite a scene
You call necessity, I see an artist's palette.
By winter's boon
the canvas is bountiful.
Jaggery – the sweet crumbles, it feels like a mother's touch.
I made small earthen pots of these,
when I open the lids
this crowd penetrates and lingers in
Even after I shed off the skin of
the parched being.