A monotonous crack
Is the vision
In my mind

Plaster
Filling the gaps
That can and cannot be
Sustained-
Depend on
The proportion
Of sand and cement.

No cut,
No grass,
No war
On my wall
Only two divergent colours-
Real and unreal
Merged and
Sprayed

Like an array
Of striped jeans
Or sometimes
Crisscrossed by
The sewing machines.

My nerves-
Rising and
Yawning
Till the dots spread
From an incarcerous spell
To tell its plot-
My wall: A polyglot.

– Monobina Nath