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
again
(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
 construct
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: superfamous.com
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5 thoughts on “Man, Mosaic and Men

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