The First Conspiracy Poem by Ayon Banerjee

No, it didn't start at a border.

It was one of those edges,
of a wrong forest
where two lonely nomads,
met at a brook
and self- consciously smiled
for the very first time.

Hungry and lost, they turned
to face the other,
in the moonlit night –
Making sounds,
and gestures new.
With two pairs of rocks.

Every now and then,
one would try to explain
his thoughts on life,
while the other would
smash the rocks in reply.
To a misled interpretation.

“Damn it! ”
High above,
the Gods swore in dismay.
Their prized project
had just hit the bin.

Man was discovering fire.
And inventing language.

Religion would soon follow.