A Poem Of Sudden Love
A dead boar, a terrible Ram Rajya, a crippled grasshopper—
A toothache-stricken sky—you, I,
The frustrated Jampui and Bhuban Bru.
My twenty-first lover—Bhuban Bru,
He had two hands, a brain, and a dozen or so bidis.
He knew how to cook well, and he could eat too.
One day, he made a broth with a wild boar and my blood—
Eating it, I felt like sacrificing my entire body to the cooking.
I even told him so; he didn't agree and sat down to write a poem,
The poem was titled Soil—
'Soil is nothing but the saliva of a spider
Soil means some deaths, soil is just the spider's own spit...'
Those memories come floating, sinking and rising in the Manu River,
I keep staring...,
Then someone comes and covers both my eyes and says—
'Tell me, who has come! '
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