2001,
Hardo Rattan, Punjab,
India.
The man lips were chanting a sombre yet sublime melody like a broken vinyl as the whites of his eyes stared into black nothingness....
Oh ! King of Heaven !
Where do the lost souls go ?
Where do dead heartbeats rest?
In the black blue sky ?
Or in the brown hues of the earth ?
Or in the white hot stars ?
Oh ! King of Heaven !
Answer me !
Because I've lost a piece of myself
Out in the depths of the sand
Where it was burned to ashes.
Oh ! King of Heaven !
Answer my burning quarrel !
They burnt it !
Bludgeoned and burnt it like charcoal.
Nothing but ashes, I hold in my palms
Under this canopy of dead trees
As my tears dissolve the leftovers.
Answer me !
Oh ! King of Heaven !
Maybe I should burn them too.
Let the fire dance through their bones
As my soul turns blue to the fiery red
Then burn myself too.
Oh ! King of Heaven !
So guide me through me to my fire !
As I kneel down on my knees on the pile of ashes
As the flames lick the shell of my body
Answer me......
Ooh.......
The man with his tattered khurti, holed pant, blood-red split knuckles and sightless eyes hunkered on the corner of the murky, soaked street. His voice slurred and slowly penetrated through the clammy, rainy skies like sunlight pouring through a lonesome cave. He looked unperturbed and calm as the clouds harshly sputtered her remnants, hitting his wrinkled yet child-like face like a slap. While people scampered around the crowded market with their umbrellas for shelter, he sat there; still and belting out his eulogy
YOU ARE READING
Rhea (When the desert met the sky)
General Fiction"Like blood pumping through my veins; And fire burning through the reins; My heart remains ablaze and unfazed...." // Rhea (Hindi: रिया) To Flow; Stream; Flowing; River; Earth; Successful; Poppy; Singer. But Rhea is anything but a stream or...
