I hide consonants under broken fingernails
and deliver a bravura performance.
No, you cannot decipher my fatigue.
I dress up spectacularly
bathed in turmeric yellow
like a wedding ritual.
With my metaphoric verses,
I paint the sky's tripod extravagantly baroque!
are strewn across the horizon's bosom.
Just like my broken nails
tinctured with the coral blue enamel
hiding a million consonants beneath its hue.
With pebbles inside my pocket
I relentlessly stare at the ethereal skyline;
it looks like a tumbled bottle of exotic Petite Sirah!
A new day has come;
bearing the fragrance of new hopes!
Silently, I sit on my old wooden chair
hoping for the rain to wash this world of its pandemic.
Time stands still
like a spring evening
that has come empty-handed. I check my fingernails- it is time for a manicure! Before that, I need to hide my consonants somewhere else! Slowly, I pack them away in a metal box and throw them into the sea of esoterica till my nails grow back again.
Debarati Sen works at the Presidency University, Kolkata as a Junior Assistant. She is also an independent researcher in the genre of Disability Studies and a freelancer with an International NGO named JPS Medaid. Writing is therapeutic for her.