Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Of Smells...And Stenches...

Till when
Shall heaven,
Within mass graves,
Under the drunken smell
Of apples and blood?
How many
Shall remain,
To form a people,
To dream in fetters,
To die in letters, 
To bear the brunt
Of our cartographic lust?
How long
Shall we fool our reflection?
How often
Must we wash our hands?
Will ablution chip away
At this rusted sanctum,
And cleanse us
From the stench
Of a charred identity?
For my veins,
And thine,
Have enmeshed like vines...
Frozen. Still.
Through the travesty
Of time...
And when we tend
To the clots...
Sit down,
Take a pause,
We shall trip over
The undulating bed
Of coalesced bodies...
And the riddled milestone
Shall finally ask
Is it this?
Is it this?
Is it this?

[Title of the poem inspired by a Children's book written by Sara Joseph and illustrated by Koonal Duggal]

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