Streets marred with martyr’s blood,
Have you been walking in a limp?
What good are you? A war hero or victim
Of a massacre sleeping on the streets.
The lights glow dim,
Have you missed being called a darling,
By the silk suits and cufflinks?
Crystal champagne flowing down your gut,
Do you remember your heart crushed into your bloodstream?
How long do you walk till you forget your limp?
Till you see a battlefield on the streets where cars run faster than it seems,
Are you a junkyard reeking of a close call of survival?
Do you wish you were among the gravestones partying on liquor blood of the dead,
Who you once called comrades?
What good is a lone soldier in a solitary city?
Buildings that run so high, looking down on you,
You belong to the ground, the dust and its mischief,
Saving and killing, your hands are blood red,
You cannot scream “out dammed spot” for it won’t bring back the dead.
You sleep with gunpowder burning in your nose,
Dreaming of beers on guns and boots quaking under the scorching sun,
The addictive kiss of death, the beautiful nights with only your wound for company.
You’re an outcast walking with a to-go coffee,
The beans do not taste as strong as they used to be,
Walking past bridges, lawns, till sunset,
Telling your comrades how the city feels dull,
In letters to wrong addresses.
The graveyard took away your home,
You’re just walking the streets with your limp alone.
Anjana Sanyal is an undergraduate student, pursuing English Honours at Gokhale Memorial Girls’ College, Calcutta University. She has freelanced and interned at various websites. Writing and literature are her necessary drugs of survival. She has completed her B.Mus in Rabindrasangeet from Bangiya Sangeet Parishad. Sketching is an occasional delight and she is a sucker for fall. Binges psychological thrillers and chooses the theatre of absurd for books.