Sunday, August 30, 2009


Evening hung
above street lamps
with nocturnal insects
drawn to light
Like fishermen flinging an empty net
over the vast Loktak

The day ceased
in its abject silence
The earth accumulates
dirt, dust and decay
Nambul turel's open drain
slithers lazily
Sad silver fishes
suffocated by sewage
Floats back to immense emptiness

The night accumulates
Like age on wrinkled skin
Like rust on humid chains
A barb wire of hope
Threatens into skin
of clasp palms
of hurt soles
Trying to break free ©


  1. Commendable, so much in so few words, I too am a lazy pen pusher, but when the mind is fired there is no stopping. Please do something in prose that hits just as numbingly. Regards, James
    Have a look at my babysteps, although my blog kind of pales in comparison.

  2. Hi Priya,
    Very well written,
    with great emphasis by every verse in signifying...
    Nice, just nice.