Obliterated Country... Poem by Ananya Guha

In the dark street lights are nuisance
darkness is territory, don't you see?
a mad forlorn territory, it does not want
to be lit. It wants solitude of space
so that people explore its thin, masquerading
body.

In the dark, there is no wonder
no, what lives yonder, but only present
prescient. In the dark monkeys and maggots
play tricks with fire.

No upheaval, the dark is quiet, untenanted
it has no masks, it is dark, dark.

Walk streets of darkness
and in the dark there is penumbra
of old questions, terrifying answers
of a history and shores which are opal.

In the dark,
nights are turqueiose
have pot holes, rat holes

a bomb explodes in the dark

exploring vast reaches
of an obliterated country.