By Niranjan Aditya
THE BOOK
Look how elegantly I have been made,
Like a polished gem.
My pages contain a story,
An inspiring life, a historical fact,
A theory, a discovery, and so on.
At least, this is how I am marketed.
The world chases me whenever they need
Validation, wisdom, or reference.
Is it because the monks and wise men
Are nowhere to be seen?
Is it because there is an overload of opinions
And false information everywhere?
Am I relevant because people are
Always confused about what's right?
Despite there being many of my kind,
We stay unread on the bookshelf,
Waiting to be discovered.
A HOUSEMAID
I leave my home to clean others’ houses.
An angry and restless man, my homeowner wants me
To clean every corner of his house—the grime on the floor,
The kitchen, the windows, the shelves, and so on.
The unhappy homeowner forces me to work late.
But there’s one place that I fail to clean: his mind.
THE DUSTBIN
My purpose is to live in a corner, eating garbage,
Without friends, family, or relatives near me.
Unlike the vase or the showpiece, no one
Bothers to dust me or keep me clean.
Sometimes, humans stuff my mouth with leftovers
Until I feel choked.
What can I do, other than swallow my destiny?
Niranjan Aditya is a student from Bangalore. His work has appeared in Kala Magazine, UK and the anthology, Rain and Laughter.
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