by October 17, 2017 0 comments

Each moment I’m ducking under the streams of thousands of rivers. After each willed bath floats a corpse. Logically there is left no claimant of that corpse. Rather caring a straw for it, I too look forward to a new dawn. At times somebody whispers, pulls one or two of them. I feel hilarious to find me alive among some sounds of arrested silence.

– Utpal Chakraborty

editors note:

One person’s horror is another’s hilarity. – mh clay

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