Sudipta Mishra, Puri, 3 August 2024
Who knows her pain?
Every time she struggles with
Changing of partners,
Without her consent
Everything goes on!
Breathing in squalor,
Surviving in disease.
The blades of the fan slowly cease moving like her eyes!
Parallel to her multiple queries,
Desires calmly replace the so-called honour.
Of course, to satiate the hunger…
But how could a tiny heart measure the difference?
Fluttering nerves count the footsteps,
A pile of strange desires.
Irresistible odour of unknown ones
At last, she masks her bloody rejection.
A silly grin hides her plight,
A Whore’s Child sustains inside stinky walls!
