Day

Sailen Routray

The sky tastes sour this evening.
The khhichdi that I made this afternoon, 
has the flavour of rainbows on acid. 
The tears you shed this morning continue to grumble 
like the innards of a well-cooked story. 
The sky, tastes sour, this evening. 

Panaromic View of Charminar in August 2011; Photo Credit -  Wikimedia Commons

Note: This poem was first published in the now defunct webzine 'Pyrta' edited by Janice Pariat.