By
Soraisam Anuka in
Poetry |
Reads: 379 |
Likes: 0
Yet another day has dawn, as the birds started chirping again.
The old man is woken up.
The hut is old,
the roof is falling.
for everyday is a new day, for the old man.
Another day; another day,
hums the old man who lives by the barrage.
They say home is where we find our comforts;
but by se Read More...
Published on May 26,2020 05:17 PM
It rang seven times, but there was no answer from the other side. He thought to redial once more but was interrupted in between, “Ali beta, zara khana charado”, he replied back “thik hai Ammi”. The wind was breezy outside and he decided to sit at the backyard, Manjil, their o Read More...
Published on May 17,2020 03:55 PM
By
Soraisam Anuka in
Poetry |
Reads: 288 |
Likes: 0
The Cart Puller
He was there walking in front of us.
I was sitting in a rickshaw and;
there he was in front of me,
turning the cart full of hay.
All I could see from behind;
was his pair of dusky legs,
moving slowly in a tipsy fashion.
Even though he was quite sober,
I saw strips of hay slipping do Read More...
Published on Mar 28,2020 08:59 PM
