ಒಂದು ಅಂಗುಷ್ಠ ತುಂಡಾದ ಚಪ್ಪಲಿ…

A slipper with a torn toe holder
Is lying alone in the middle of a road,
Like a clutter.

The road opens up,
For the morning drenched in Red,
For the chirping of the birds and for boredom laden evening walks,
For the dark greenery,
and engulfing darkness.
For the freezing silence and
Choking inner sweltering.

So many slippers get worn and torn on this road.
The friction between the road and the slippers
Wears and tears them both.

A few days ago an old pair was
Moving and crawling.

A feeble sob after a heavy rain in the evening,
Tears dripping down the eyes of the green leaves
Are all possessed by the thick dark silence.

A little bit ,tarnished
loops and turns chipped,
Torn heeled,skin peeled
Ladies’slipper.
That’s here…
Stink of the soaked leather,
Yuck…
Walked away keeping some distance.

A voiceless lone quilt is
Lying in the middle of the road.

At the end of the road
a dog is running away,
Holding the other one of the pair, between it’s teeth.
Following the stench of the leather
Other dogs are chasing it,
Barking.

Translated by : Samatha R

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