The long-term illness of my wife
pours instantly a course of cursed ink
on my painting —
painted efficiently and magnificently
with colourful paints
imported from my dreamland,
compels my three entities —
body, mind and soul to sink down to
the depth of bottomless ocean of fire
and snatches the fire extinguisher too,
used in extinguishing my burning heart —
set ablaze by the evil attitudes of
society, profession, politics and religion.
Alas! The burning heart is helpless
and driven blindly towards the heaps of ashes
with no escaping reverse gear.
Nevertheless, my strong will-power is bestowed
with a green signal
and I find myself submerged in the heap of
pen and papers
and blissful somehow in writing something new
about my old misfortune,
and my injured heart gets healed alternatively
by white papers with colourful pens.
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