Hey! Are You Still There?
A lapidarian’s apprentice Tight-lipped and narrow-eyed Began carving a new script Of a brand new world Filtering out life.
Dreams lay scattered
Like paint smeared brushes On the table of a careless painter Who had gone for lunch
His mind is a container of emptiness.
Death is no longer heroic
Nor difficult to conceive
It has put itself on all four shows Matinee, noon, evening, and night The burial rites went awry.
The broad contours of golf courses The glitzy spaces of malls
The fragrant eateries and restaurants The schools and playgrounds Remain frozen in time.
Highways choke with barefooted millions Their dehydrated souls stained with sweat Expecting no alterity from heavens They march back to their villages No relief from a realm beyond reality.
From my narrow one BHK window A lone cloud sails across the blue sky Is it uplifting to be alive?
The pep-talk no longer aligns my growth Fears do.
Mamta Joshi did her Masters's in History from Allahabad University. Her poems, reflective essays, prose pieces, and short stories have appeared in national dailies and international e-magazines. A free spirit, she works with equal ease in Hindi and English.