Snow and Purple Flowers

By Susmita Chatterjee Alias Aloakash

The white, like a wrapper of snow

Stretched in and stretching the horizon

From a distance, a black car with its headlight glaring, rushes

Trees on the roadside passes fast

Except one, that one

Wearing, a purple velvet cloak

She is not fully draped in white yet

Her magnetic magnificence

Repelling and repelling

And

Drawing closer and closer

That woman, yes, that’s the woman

The black car stops with a screech

Headlights dims

A crack

Rapid succession of tremors and the headlight flashes off.

In one of the headlines of the morning newspaper, they read that a man died in a car

accident.

Only, the neighbour knew.

The neighbour who saw the man beating his wife

Every night

Before stripping her off to bed.

One night, she protested.

The last night in which she protested

The neighbour knew

She was killed and buried under a tree

Which bore magnificent purple flowers.

By Susmita Chatterjee Alias Aloakash