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Kushal Poddar |
Not the statue, the garden around
(I have found one white gold root
crossing the width of the peace
leave the heart of the ground
at some random locus, found
its arched bow and mumble,
"The human voice can never reach
the distance that is covered by
the still small voice of conscience."),
especially on a lone crow, post rain
afternoon, shapes him, larger than
his large life. I have some books on him,
a cellphone search for his quote, but in
this quiet, beside my drying umbrella
I see Gandhi sprawl across the chiaroscuro
and the silhouette. I see him in droplets
and obliterated wall-writings, in a labourer
asleep on a park bench. His muscles have gone
but will still gives the strength to shovel
and sleep without any med. I close my eyes
to hold the message beeped within and celebrate.
Bio: Kushal Poddar: The author of Postmarked Quarantine has eight books to his credit.
He is a Journalist, father, and the editor of ‘Words Surfacing’. His works have been translated into twelve languages, published across the globe.
Twitter- https://twitter.com/Kushalpoe
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