Monthly Archives: March 2013

The Shadows

They are everywhere.

Peeking from the roofs of the brothels,
Crouching in the lanes infested with malaria, Stalking every street dog, rabid and starving, Inside anyone who dares to enroach up on the streets.

The authorities have installed gigantic, yellow streetlights to scare them away. But they have thrived, feeding on the shit-coloured aura of these ‘sentinels’. Dont they see? The Shadows are mere children of light.

I see a man, with shreds of filthy khaki clinging on to his body, trying to cut away his part of the Shadow with a pair of rusted scissors. He howls as he chops off his toe. A little bit of his shadow grows.

On a wall on his right, a poster is pasted — “Obey!” It commands.
A saint sits cross-legged under a banyan tree. “Destroy your desires! Burn them! Liberate yourself! Free your soul from bondage!” He screams. But when the shadow engulfs him, he retrieves the gold shoved inside his rectum and licks the stinking chains.

There is a factory nearby. It claims it produces civilized retards. It calls itself a school. It is the shadow factory.

Lights — fluroscent, blinking, multicoloured, marquees, bulbs, tubes, LEDs — they are everywhere. But the shadows are all black. The black outnumbers the light, because it is one.

In the veil of the shadows, a woman walks in the gullys. A man pokes her with an iron rod, she bursts.
Long, tubular, filthy, bloody.
They are strewn all over the street.

I run.
Faster than ever.
The shadows follow.

I fly.
Higher, higher than the sun.
The shadows are above me.

It is a steep fall.
My skin feels like it will rip-off, leaving the musculatre exposed to the winds, to the hard-hitting clouds, to the shadows — dripping black poison.

I am on the streets again.
In front of my home.
I open the door, sprinting towards the bed.
It is there.

The shadow.
It sucks all the light, though it is the child of light.
I can feel its breath.
It is there.
It is there.
I embrace.
It is me.

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