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A Nip of Salt, a Red Chili and Some Mustard
Misfortunes mushrooming
from malevolent glares
are beliefs,
as common water hyacinth.
Eying me
drooping in dejection,
grandma takes a nip of salt,
a red chili
and some mustard,
locks her palm,
rotates her fist over my pate thrice,
then throws the ingredients of charm
into the embers in our hearth.
I refresh, fooling myself.
A scarecrow
hanging
in front of
building construction
is another Patriot system
against eye-missiles.
Defense is diverse.
Evil eyes thrive
from rhizomes of envy.
They have been
on the earth
since the inception of thought.
First published in The Literary Hatchet
Copyright ©
Fabiyas M V
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