Waters, juicy chambers,
Devouring hungry tongues,
Amidst media prattle
on feets and inches.
Smell of flesh
Raw life, blooded water.
Shrieks and shouts-
For the child, the dinghy.
The boatman's voice-
"Lie down, lie down."
A body bloated
Floated by the shore,
Someone dear and loved.
Death by water.
A mother's wailed lullaby
As the current carries
An only child.
Clouds burst again into
Pellets of rain;
While, rescued ones
They sit on scum
And dream about lives.
Girls in hostels, airlifted
with morning dew-
their nighties drenched in shutter-shock.
Auto-rickshaw, stranded,
Dashed to the median.
Wicker baskets inside brim
of red blood tomatoes
trembling in the rain.
Glasses splattered;
Shimmering in the sun,
lost their glaze with the rain.
Gifted tilapia, dazed
gobbled in salt water, musing
about fresher days.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem