top of page
  • hashtagkalakar

Meridian

By Sourav B


Meridian


To the puppeteer,

The ventriloquist,

On a serpent, cross or Valhalla.

This movie that you made,

The one I’m playing a part in,

Is asking me questions

That I’m struggling to place.

What ran through your head while you made it?

I wonder.

The bluster in harmony,

The textbook with a heartbeat,

What mortals call Mumbai.


Between the ragpicker in the east

And the well-dressed retriever in the west,

I stand befuddled on what makes more sense,

The amusement I had from the dog skirt she didn’t need,

Or the desire to put a better trouser,

On the boy with the dirty sack.

Neither the boy, nor the dog, seem to care one bit.

Why? I wonder.





From froth and bubbles worth more than four numbers,

To the thirst-Quenching saviour just asking for two,

From t-shirts worth more than some pays at the fourth week,

To the pretty fake jewels,

Bargained over at the street.

From Mannats looking at the ocean,

To tin cans with a tin roof.

From the happy little puppy with a broken little paw,

To the whiny big boy with too much salt in his chips,

Broader and wider lies the spectrum of the kingdom,

And in dismay I see it has broken my compass.


I find myself stuck at the meridian.

To my east is the rag-picking boy,

To my west the dressed-up dog.

Should I feed and be among the ones in east,

Or see how my young life gets treated in the west.

Where do I belong? I wonder.

Where do I go? I wonder.



By Sourav B





2 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

By Anvita Tantia They're real, And raw, unfettered They're long, Clear and uncluttered They sometimes ramble Other times they're crisp These conversations meander Within my head Two Voices Sometimes t

By Arpitkaur Huda A hundred places , a hundred faces Passing by the eyes, Pretty names , harsh truths And a thousand sweet lies. Daily people, daily battles, Choices and fears, Appreciation, apologi

By Nirupama Bissa कर सूरज को बंद एक डिबिया में, दिया लेकर उजाले तलाशते लोग। घोल कर हवाओं में ज़हर अपने हाथों से ऑक्सीजन के प्लांट लगाते लोग । घर में बुजुर्गों का अपमान करके, वृद्धाश्रम में चंदा बंटवात

bottom of page