Abandoning A Chair On the Pavement by kushal Poddar

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In warming East the half light floats up. 

In light darkness I carry the heft of my 

father’s termite ridden chair. 

I aim to leave it at the far end of the lane. 

My hands quiver as if  not as if, in certainty, 

I feel the heat of the shame. Perchance 

my mind imagines our neighbours’ judging 

eyes. I walk to abandone my father’s 

favourite furniture. In the blue the starlings’ 

overture weaves a mellow tragedy . 

Before dropping the chair I turn. The house

can be seen on the other side of the empty lane. 

It looks forsaken, and I feel being crowded 

with whispering. 


BIO:

Kushal Poddar

The author of ‘Postmarked Quarantine’ and ‘How To Burn Memories Using a Pocket Torch’ has ten books to his credit. He is a journalist, father of a four-year-old, illustrator, and an editor. His works have been translated into thirteen languages and published across the globe. 

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