Hemlock

The night unfurling silence

As the beast tore off clothes

Of its victim to be satiated;

As the husband made love

From his right to his bride.

I saw it, at this moment,

Sitting at my southern window.

I asked being scared curious

Of its identity.

It sipped the breath hardly

As a baby breathe

After out of womb;

As a beggar smile

After getting s’thing to eat.

Then, it reply in a voice–

Like that of crow

Am the ultimate truth

And it smiled out slime

Like that of a man

After giving a stale bread to beggar

Or alms–one rupee coin;

Like that of a prostitute

After satisfying her man

Of the night, her earn.

A chill may have run down

Right at the moment.

It took out a chalice out of air

Take it…its hemlock…come with me.

I smiled & closed my eyes.

The dry wind of monsoon night

Touched my lips.

I sat down beside it.

It was not agitated but calm

As the wind after a Kalbaisakhi

As the soul after being free.

The boundary of truth of the moment

Got blurred as it vanishes

In the quietitude of the night.

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