By
Sukrita Paul Kumar
THE HOMELESS
(i)
Saabji,
Said the boy from Badayun,
Teach me to write a letter,
A letter that my old Ma can read,
She never went to school, Saabji!
And remember, Saabji,
I won’t learn to write
what she can’t read!
(ii)
Dreams are to be dreamt in sleep
To die when the eyes open,
Deny them, dismiss them
For the green pastures are nowhere
Dreams sink like paper-boats
when belief sits in them
Each day,
I must work, I must earn
And eat, just so
That I go home
But that too is a dream, I confess.
ALONE
Can’t there be flights?
Into the skies? Beyond the horizon?
Will I always keep sinking
A rudderless boat in
Deep waters
Empty of colour
Waves folding above,
Around and beneath
Salty eyes
Sea taste in the mouth
That way
This way
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