There is mulberry that hangs 
from the sky,
a suffused burning
as the suns scorch its vapor back

This section of the world is half-lit, much obscured, 
evenly incomprehensible,
regularly unconsolidated,
breaking loose and tying
(A  wavering cadence)

As the colors wander

This time all huddled together, a march even
Their scrawny fingers
scavenging each skin fragment
I know 
that today colors don't shape humans 
as much as humans do them,
that rose and mango 
are not reflections, but nonsensical choices

That pigments today don't
but deceive,
Yet I think 
     that today the faces 
match the vessels better
Confusion of emotions
Confusion of existence
Some red leaks, some green blossoms,
some black stays
And everyone looks the same

PS: A very Happy holi to everyone :)
© Aakriti Kuntal
Image source:

5 thoughts on “Man, Mosaic and Men

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