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Poem – Jhilam Adhikary
The Abandoned land
Once a cheerful college, now as dry as sand,
Enclosed in a glass ball, a quarantined land,
A fairy tale,
A story sings as I write it,
The desire to break the glass and reach it.
A large giant shoe with wheels,
Fancy, new and splendid.
Driven by white horses,
A simple shoe of some forgetful ogress,
Turned into a graceful chariot .
I am the mistress,
Driving the cart,
Wearing my cat ears
Or a beret cap.
I drive it through the sunny, lonely roads,
I smile at the people
Peeping through windows.
My friends inside,
Like pet hamsters hiding,
Not like fancy knights,
But like isolated living beings.
I can see them inside,
But I cannot touch them.
I want my chariot to reach there,
For my Amity is missing them.
It is missing me too,
But it won’t call me,
For it fears that I would die.
It hugs me from a distance, it doesn’t want death to reach to me,
It wants me to stay safe.
My Amity, my poor desperate Amity.
If I die, let it be in your arms.
Let me drive this cart through distant lands,
Let me cross the closed shops, the silent roads, the empty bus stands,
Let me be selfish,
Let me criticise this unified crime-less land,
For if this war ends in a death bed,
I want your lap to carry my head.
If I ever meet that beautiful ogress,
I will ask her to eat those viruses,
So that I could step inside her shoe as well,
And reach my healthy Amity,
Like a wealthy princess.
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