Day of Judgement

In last journey he wanted to have a free run without rumors of reconciliation. From years back he watched – friends, disappeared one by one. He became his own enemy. The ravines were waiting for the sacrificial throw of a bound martyr. Between being and action he was ready for the kiss of death – from a ferocious opponent, whose chest spread like a hood of cobra – ready to strike. His ghost will walk now on the clouds, days in, days out, to read the black lips of blissful time. SATISH VERMA