Time and Life to Death
Filth, they call it ubiquitous; obnoxious, on the streets, in heaps, in lanes, scattered. Life goes daily, usually on, oblivious of filth, or death, goes on with ease. Unfettered feet, undaunted – of pilgrims, of people, with purpose, or strollers, the timeless lanes, narrow, space ample for all who come, who live and die there. Disgusting, the filth, reflected sometimes, on faces. Cow dung, house waste, refuse and grime, scattered, removed, then scattered again, repeat performance, seen and felt on skin, in nose, on feet through eyes. Yet feet go on, undaunted, eternally, as time and life run to death, from flesh to fire to ashes.
©2021 Rajnish Mishra All rights reserved.
Rajnish Mishra is a poet, writer, translator and blogger born and brought up in Varanasi, India and now in exile from his city. His work originates at the point of intersection between his psyche and his city. He edits PPP Ezine and writes at https://rajnishmishravns.wordpress.com/