Song. Dance. Intoxication.
The eloquence of life
and the eloquence of living
melts into tears
and life remains but an agonized scream
in the streets of Kabul and Kashmir.
Spring, Summer and winter know not
Mornings and evenings.
Smiles are stuck on the bared teeth of the dead,
they forget to feel the pain.
Smiles scar the smirking faces
of the trigger happy Cyclops of religions fake.
They drop from the back of camels;
from Hindukush; Sahara; Anywhere; Anytime
beating loud cymbals of death.
The eloquence of death is in its dance.
Shake a leg: tears.
Shake a leg: grief.
Cyclops and cymbals and ear-shattering blasts
The eloquence of life is smothered even in hospital beds.
Dr Shruti Das teaches English Literature and Language in the Berhampur University in Odisha, India. She is an academician and a poet writing Bi-lingually. She has published widely and has two volumes of poetry to her credit: A Daughter Speaks (2013) and Lidless Eyes (2015). She loves to travel.