A Vista

Taking pride in the knowledge

That I have accumulated,

I stand over the roof.

I look right, I look left.

My visions stretch over the thatched roofs,

Where people look so menial,

Diminutive and of lesser beings.

Lying out-stretched on

The ground and covered in the dust.

Their finger nails soiled in hard-labour

And every breath is breathed for survival.

A dog sleeps next to the man,

There is no shame.

They breathe the same air,

Walk on the same land

And they are under the same sky.

They both worry

For two meals a day.

They are kicked out like garbage

Or pitied by a passer-by.

Charity buys them luck

And sometimes sympathy.

A man in born naked,

He is still naked.

Naked of joys and pleasures,

Laughters and merriments.

He is filled with grieves and sorrows.

He is clothed with struggle and dust.

I see a child not more than fifteen,

Pushing the loaded cart,

Enduring his body to feed his family.

I see an infant unattended,

Left on the floor, wailing.

I see an old lady on the road,

Stretching out her alms and singing boons

To all who throws a penny at her.

I stand on the roof

And observe, and anticipate,

And visualize, and introspect,

And witness, and survey,

And imagine, and watch,

And watch and just watch

And taking pride in the knowledge

That I have accumulated.

A Wall

Brick by brick,

One over the other

For a wall thick.

A room of one’s own

Cannot be broken or torn.

Seldom entered or even known.

No beam of light penetrates

No vagabond air dances

No thoughts wander.

There is a bondage-

a lumber

Of words.

Bound by memoirs

Locked in the past,

I’ve prisoned my own self.

The Hunger

She could have only been seventeen, but he was twenty-nine. He had charmed her in his masculine attitudes and lured her to his bed. She was waiting there and anticipating. He gazed at her immensely until she lowered her eyes and turned her head away. He progressed towards her and swayed her on to the bed.

He unclothed himself and pounced on her as a greedy monkey. He messily peeled her off her clothes and flung them over the floor. He kneaded her body as dough and squeezed and pressed her to the bed. His tongue ferociously began to tread her body. His beard frayed her cheeks. His teeth consumed and began chewing up on her nipples. And finally, he was ready to have the whole pork for himself. Her groans and moans filled the room until he had, had it all.

Thus, their hunger was satisfied.

Out from the window came a loud shrill. A screeching sound of a baby could have been heard very distinctly…

The house was not very far away. It was a small hovel with no proper doors or a window, where a mother had just returned home. It was almost eleven in the night. She took the crying infant out of the cot and patted it. The infant would not stop crying. She fed it with some fetid water, but no good. She later unhooked her blouse and got the infant’s lips closer to her breast. The infant promptly began sucking in whatever it could. Not more than few moments, there was lout cry yet once again.

Her breasts were dried. She had nothing for her to eat. She hooked her blouse and left the infant crying on the floor. She sat there, on the floor, her elbow on the knee and slapped her forehead.