THE EPITAPH OF A DOG
With a hoarse voice of an adolescent male
A slender waist dog
Strived to delve soil to make burial ground
Removing the grasses with paws
It tried to make the hole deeper.
While trying this ceaselessly
Its mortal remains hung
On the barbed wire fencing of the office.
Perhaps the dog wanted a tomb of its own
May be the fancy of a floral epitaph too
In the deep core of its heart.
Simple though – a ritual of last rite
Or the luxury of the symphony of a dirge.
The dog didn’t expect that
The bow flies to come out in thousands
To mourn its death
And the buzzing on the path must blur
The brightness of a sunny noon.
It didn’t want pedestrian tuck handkerchief
On their nostrils to keep the pungent odor out.
Never it wanted the brightness of auburn sunshine
Hide under the dark shadow of a wide winged hawk.
Smearing the flamboyant gulmohar on my wet eyelids
I closed all the doors and windows
From where one could view the carcass hung.
And rushed to join the feast
Organized to celebrate the promotion of boss.
In the banquet hall as I lifted the leg piece
From the chicken broth
I felt a tingle of nails on my breast.
In the fountain of blood dripping from the wound
Tearing my heart apart
Lay a copper colored dog
In hushed silence.
Nilakshi Dutta hails from the pristine tea gardens of Assam, Tinsukia. She has been working as a Principal in a government Senior secondary school for the past five years. She is extremely passionate about poetry and considers herself to be more of a reader than a writer. Her short stories have been published in famous Assamese literary magazine GORIYOXEE and a few of her poems are scattered in some indigenous newspapers