An evocative, multi-layered poem, a social commentary, by Rituparna, exclusively for Different Truths.
These pair of greyed eyes are parched to have a glimpse of you. It has been a couple of years or more. You are delved though for some greater reasons, I know. Well, it’s all in the game. More than three quarters of a year has elapsed in the labyrinth of time when the last letter flew from you. In which distant part you are now, there’s nowhere about known. Well, it’s all in the game. Incessant pouring of last monsoon has left every bit of the roof tattered and waiting for a minimal funding, to be re done. Yet your place of shelter at present, is a haze. Well, it’s all in the game. Chameli has given birth to two lovely male calves. Yet she moos and moans to quench you and mother you. We wonder if you’re having two square meals to feed yourself. Well, it’s all in the game. Your sister’s engagement is done. Date to be fixed is waiting for you. She denies leaving for her in-laws’ sans your presence and blessings. Well, it’s all in the game. Media says, the northwestern horizon is again blooded with grenades these days. Your mother nags in vain if there’s any update from your end. Well, it’s all in the game. You're more a son for greater good. I console her with these words though. Our cradle of love is too small for your guardian self now. Well, it’s all in the game. This dawn the knock at the door startled me up. We three came out to confront you, shrouded in tricolor, leaving us standing dumbfounded in wilderness, forever. Well, it’s all in the game.
Visual by Different Truths
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