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Adya Ghoshal

Others


4  

Adya Ghoshal

Others


Inno-sins

Inno-sins

1 min 243 1 min 243

A damp smell of the wet soil, 

Where green vines lay tangled, 

Like my restless mind… 

A crowd of shining pearls, 

Flowing gracefully down the windowpane,

A cold blow of wind and tiny raindrops, 

Pitter-patter sounds with happy giggling, 

On the neighbour's yard, 

Two unsynchronised beating hearts.

Children crushing mud between their thumbs, 

Unknowingly killing the little snails… 

I will never understand the play of death, 

How effortlessly and happily, 

Like a cheerful game it unfolded, 

Little insects meeting death, 

Two innocent little giggling creatures crushing the life out of them. 

The children made a paper boat, 

Kept a little insect on it, 

And set the boat to sail, 

The boat struggled and moved through the sea of Life, 

And eventually drowned. 

The innocent children clapped their hands…

My mind has become restless since, 

What if we all are insects,

Put to sail by some giggling innocent God?


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