Tasting rivers that we see from trains
Temptation is a weak word
that awaits the solitary bather
at the river bank
where he dissevers inhibition,
as if an apple,
overcomes the male menopause, and
falls for Narcissus
swearing
love is the passion of a river–
the hidden warmth
in the embrace of the mightier.
Tasting a river is not mere tongue and eye,
but an inherited instinct
to spot windows on the water
that open as they do, from our old kitchens
venting out an aroma, at the core of it,
a blend of sweat and curry from
the drapes of the mother’s sari
the tip of which we often held
as if they were kites in our vast playgrounds.
Rivers that we see from trains
bury us in the arms
its cold fingers,
a litany of the pyre that urges–
Sit down. Stay awhile
before scribbling
the next wound in the sand.
Aditya Shankar (b.1981, Thrissur, Kerala, India) writes in English and Malayalam, and publishes poetry and articles in leading journals including The Little Magazine, The Word Plus, Indian Literature, The Literary X Magazine, Munyori, The Pyramid, Poetry Chain, Mastodon Dentist, The Wild Goose Poetry Review, Bayou Review, Meadowland Review, Words-Myth, Chandrabhaga, Miller’s pond, Message in a bottle, Aireings, Hudson View, Snakeskin, The Legendary, Literary Bohemian among others. His fiction has appeared in The Caledonia Review and The Other Herald.
Temptation is a weak word
that awaits the solitary bather
at the river bank
where he dissevers inhibition,
as if an apple,
overcomes the male menopause, and
falls for Narcissus
swearing
love is the passion of a river–
the hidden warmth
in the embrace of the mightier.
Tasting a river is not mere tongue and eye,
but an inherited instinct
to spot windows on the water
that open as they do, from our old kitchens
venting out an aroma, at the core of it,
a blend of sweat and curry from
the drapes of the mother’s sari
the tip of which we often held
as if they were kites in our vast playgrounds.
Rivers that we see from trains
bury us in the arms
its cold fingers,
a litany of the pyre that urges–
Sit down. Stay awhile
before scribbling
the next wound in the sand.
Aditya Shankar (b.1981, Thrissur, Kerala, India) writes in English and Malayalam, and publishes poetry and articles in leading journals including The Little Magazine, The Word Plus, Indian Literature, The Literary X Magazine, Munyori, The Pyramid, Poetry Chain, Mastodon Dentist, The Wild Goose Poetry Review, Bayou Review, Meadowland Review, Words-Myth, Chandrabhaga, Miller’s pond, Message in a bottle, Aireings, Hudson View, Snakeskin, The Legendary, Literary Bohemian among others. His fiction has appeared in The Caledonia Review and The Other Herald.
