Nilakshi Dutta

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