K.C.Prashar
 

Sleep

Just before sleep was to come
To me,
I closed my eyes;
And when it did at last arrive,
I still kept them closed
Pretending,
I had not seen it come over;
The entire night thereafter
I kept listening to its
Persistent knocks
At my eye-lids!


Of Feathers and petals

At butcher's shop:
The butcher catches hold
Of a culled bird,
Tears apart the feathers till
What is left of it
Is mere grotesque lump of flesh.
He retains it for sale
And throws away feathers
Into the garbage bin.

At a flower kiosk:
The vendor catches hold
Of a plucked flower,
Snaps its petals all till
What is left of it
Is mere stalk and stamen.
He retains petals for sale
And throws away the remenant
Into the garbage-bin.


Radcliffe Line

Wonder, whose line of thinking

It was
Who made people believe
That the course along which
Flowed the Ravi
On the alluvials of Punjab
Partitioned the two nations
On its either side;
While the river itself to this day
Keeps providing its waters
Indiscrimately as ever before
Unseen, silently
Making them seep through sands
And gravels underground,
Keeping filled impartially
On its either side both
The Pak and the Indian wells.
 

Dr. K.C.Prashar
179, Ramneek Lane
Dhalpur, Kullu.H.P.
 


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