Poem · Political

Wildfire in my room

Its, too far

Probably nothing to worry

Wind is still cold.

But

Am I the only one

Who is smelling the fire ?

No, I am not insane,

Here it is !

My floor is on fire !

My books, bed and the pillows

Bansuri flute given by my late teacher

All are burning down

It catches the wall and holds on to

Michelangelo’s “Creation of Adam”.

It burns the top right of the canvas

Yah ! the brain god is burning !

Resisting to become ashes, it burns and burns..

Thus in the midst of this metropolitan city,

In this multi storied building

A room burned down of wildfire tonight

Silently, invisibly, anonymously.

 

Image: From movie Sacrifice  by Tarkovsky