Vinod Kumar Shukla

A street in the bazaar,
A busy shopper,
Carrying a soiled
...

I toss a bunch of keys
In the air,
And the sky opens.
Perhaps the key
...

Those that will never come to my home
I shall go to meet.
A river in flood will never come to my home.
To meet a river-like people,
I shall go to the river, swim a little and drown.
Dunes, rocks, a mountain, a pond, endless trees, fields
Will never come to my home.
I shall search high and low
for dunes, mountains, rock-like people.

People who work all the time,
I shall meet, not during my leisure hours,
but as if it was an important job.
This first wish of mine I'll hold on to,
like the very last one.
...

One should see one's own home from far off.
One should cross the seven oceans
to see one's home,
in the helplessness of the unbridgeable distance,
fully hoping to return some day.
One should turn around, while journeying,
to see one's own country from another.
One's Earth, from space.
Then the memory of
what the children are doing at home
will be the memory of what children are doing on Earth.
Concern about food and drink at home
will be concern about food and drink on Earth.
Anyone hungry on Earth
will be like someone hungry at home.
And returning to Earth
will be like returning home.

Things back home are in such a mess
that after walking a few steps from home,
I return homewards as if it were Earth.
...

It affirms that there is a child
It affirms that a smattering of flowers is blooming
It affirms that there is happiness
And that the water in the jug is drinkable
And that breath can be drawn from the air
It affirms that the world is
That in the world that remains I remain
Survivor of the war that is to come

I want to die, the person I am
So that in the last moment before death
I shall wish to live forever
For there is a smattering of flowers
And the world is.
...

A man had sat down in desperation
I did not know the man
But I knew the desperation
So I went to him
And extended my hand
Holding my hand, he rose
He did not know me
But he knew the extending of my hand
We walked together
We did not know each other
But we knew walking together.
...

My numb arms are
Parallel with the tree's
Dry branches
...

A small room
With nails in the walls
To hang pictures from.
...