I don’t want to be nice and decent
I want to tear off my skin
And bludgeon my patience
And rip apart my smiles
I want to expose
All that’s inside of me
Rugged, sharp, torn
Shorn of all loveliness and care
Smells of fumes of anger
Layers of dreams
That melt away into nothingness
All coiled up
Boiling roiling
Like mirrors of stagnant time
That reflect something’s wrong
All that’s wrong
Like curtains of lies and deceit
That hang down heavily
On richly decorated truths
Like the cries of honesty
Begging for mercy
At the altar of vainness
I am done
More than done
Let the sun and the rain
And the storm and the seas
Wash me and tear me down…
No rosy cheeks
No dimpled chin
No powders and paints
No plasters no casts
Nothing to hide
Just unadorned fire
Raw flames
Burning down
Even the last shred of shame
Every speck of modesty
Heat and sweat
Throbbing and pulsating
Fear and danger
Absolute mess everywhere
It’s a world where
There’s no heaven no hell
Everything’s merged into
Rage
Unspeakable rage
Inexpressible fury
Nothing waits to be uttered
Because utterance itself
Has declared silence
Has silenced civility
Nothing borrows
Or lends itself
There’s absolute disregard
For propriety
There’s no me left
Just miles and miles
Of pure madness
I am writing myself down
Like a poem that
Doesn’t want to end
That keeps stitching
And mending edges
Thinking it’s done
But it’s not
So she tears them down
And starts the pattern anew
Like it just wants to
Inscribe on the melting walls of time
That she once… was…
Soumyanetra Munshi, Associate Professor, Economic Research Unit, Indian Statistical Institute, Kolkata
