Sonnet On A "Biscuit" Poem by Indranil Bit

Sonnet On A "Biscuit"



A nice cool evening and I suddenly feel the mice in my stomach.
Limited time to spare and the best option is only the one to fetch.
So I strolled round to grab a pack of biscuits and hurried back to desk.
Sitting there relaxed, I unwrapped it and started to munch on it calmly.
Nothing extravagant here in the tale of serial interpretation of events.

I was idly going through the minute details in white on the red.
Red is the wrapper color of course when I stumbled on the make.
It is manufactured in Himachal foothills, contains wheat and sugar.
Wheat from Punjab in all probability, sugar of the Deccan black soil.
The soil of the Himalayas also must have precipitated invisibly on.

Then the warehouse as the pack say, it is in the sacred city of Hardwar.
It must have transported another thousand kilometers to reach me.
Suddenly I feel very happy, I just tasted entire India for just 10 bucks.
Strange! Isn't it so! So is my country. Only you need to define imagination.

Friday, July 27, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: imagery,patriotic
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