by Pitambar Naik
Tender ecstasy titters like a fairy tale
Yet incarnadine hope takes a siesta in a mini heaven
Ryes of milky hobgoblin scent decay in the landscapes.
Here, listening to an mp3 of chirping chortles
On a roadside star hotel sumptuous square dance
A fine lavish exchange of idyllic rendezvous
The east licks the hormonal love aubade of the west
While driving a ritzy future on, years gone by
Come on let’s be megalomaniac, why not… why not
Hugs of burgundy desires, perennial embraces
Flood of French kisses and stings of honey love linger.
But somewhere, you can’t ignore
A fierce storm in the air, bitter crimson flames torture
See the parched ribs and warped stomach of Kalahandi
Phanus Punji, no harvest that year, kids for sale
A bit of stony mango seeds, dry mahua flowers
Lips full of sweat, the green flora and fauna feels ashamed
Bastar breathes hard among hundreds of starving carcasses
Malkangiri is bitterly nude, Kandhamal sobs in the midnight
The Bondas, Nature’s pristine folk just humorous sarcasm
Numb hunger exposes its flint-teeth, proxy violence
Why is a huge exodus to death? Why is a spiraling screech?
Abyss betrayal, a different India lurks there.