Stare

colourful, wall
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Staring at a colourful blank wall, at times, may make your mind work and awaken dead thoughts. But, none of it matters.

Stare
At the wall
Blank
The windows are open.
They should have stayed closed.
It does not make a difference.
Pale yellow.
The colour of my neighbour’s house.
Two feet from the shutters.
I can only see pale yellow.

Stare.
At the wall.
Blank.
The children play outside.
They should have stayed indoors.
But it does not matter.
Blank.
Their expressions.
Clutching tightly.
New touchscreen phones.

Stare.
At the wall.
Blank.
They are drilling for water.
They should have found some by now.
It does not matter.
Dirty yellow.
The thick muddy water spurts out.
It is ground stone.
They will stay here and suck what remains.

Stare.
At the wall.
Blank.
People are going to the temple now.
They should have gone to another place.
It does not matter.
Dull yellow.
Her turmeric stained hands.
Drops the empty bag at the corner.
Lest the vegetable vendor defiles her by accidentally grazing it.

Stare.
At the wall.
Blank.
I’ve had more coffee than I should.
I should have had none.
It does not matter.
Quick.
Makes my mind work.
Dead thoughts awake.
Stimulants are required.

Stare.
At the wall.
Blank.
I have.
I should have.
It does not matter.
Blank.
Stare.

Blank.

***

Madras Courier originally ran as a broadsheet with a poetry section. It was a time when readers felt comfortable sharing glimpses of their lives through verse. If you too have a poem you’d like to submit, do mail us at editor@madrascourier.com.

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