Still life
And a poetry.
Pages
A paragraph
Or just a line.
Life is then not still.
It can never be,
And thousand more glass will be emptied.
It flows
Trying to reflect an example from 'rangeet'.
It moves on
Making its curves like a dusty, rough road.
It keeps flying
Like crows who never come and sit over his punctured roof.
Glass is again no more empty.
Same as life inside his poetry
No more still life.
It costs only ten rupees for a bottle.
Cost of life
You can never calculate its value in dollars
He never tried to do it.
Heart is always thirsty
Feelings are always suffocated,
For last forty six defamed years
They always wanted to break free.
And another ten rupees
Cost of thirst.
Black,burnt woods
Edited pieces of trees
A river bank.
(For the pieces those never got edited
For the thirst that could never get quenched over paper
For the stomach that many times bounced hungry.)
They watch below from the road
And life sleeps still.
Has life stopped flowing????
But the 'rangeet' is still singing.
Has life stopped moving??
But a child tries to run away
Freeing his hand from his father's grip
To chase a away a resting bird....
And a living house
A lonely corner
A thirsty table
Empty glass
Still life
And a poetry???
