Anchored Briefly

While melting-down he was going to cheat the death. So be it, bribing the inevitable. In search of me, you and self, life was coming to an end. Standing on sharp edge he wanted to go back to beginning of era, to try again his fear against coarse future, to be versed in or not to cease, to yield to the butchering-ground for salvation. He did not want to pick up the droppings now with butterfingers. Let there be a revolt against the buyers of wallets. Gods have left the caves and crowds are thinned out. Prayerwheels are broken. Sky was overcast. The morality heaves out of bush and steps up to find a new crisis. SATISH VERMA