Epiphany
The car halted
raindrops on the windshield
Crystals necklaced
against the ink of the sky.
he rolled the window down,
saw the cafe distant, bright,
Lights and decibels streaming through,
The laughter and gaiety too,
Faces; naked and unconcerned.
His breath choked afresh,
recollection dawning
of struggles to free
himself of the blue cocoon.
The mirror not just reflecting
his face, a maze of
mask inflicted furrows,
But the etched memories of
the intubated, now
tragically lost.
He was drawn again to
the night’s untrammelled celebration
while his mind live-streamed
the epiphany,
Both didn’t care,
one unknowingly
beyond consciousness.
The other wilfully so.
The car started.
ROLL THE PEBBLE SISYPHUS
I wonder at the thought, what
if ever, a meteor of revelation
Had streaked through his imagination
The unravelling of the solution, overriding
the fear of the Gods
The slow but enticing circling of a premise
The unfreezing of the mind bringing
The thought of a lever, pressed against,
All while they told him it’s destined
Hey roll the pebble Sisyphus
Roll it
S V Rao is a postgraduate geologist from Mumbai University and a roving resident of the city. Freshly minted scribbler of merakian aspirations, with well-wishers alluding to his attempts more as a product of the Dunning-Kruger effect.
