Celebration

Sailen Routray

Folk Art Created for 'Manabasa Gurubar Festival
Photo Credit - Wikimedia Commons

 
December’s cold does not fall any longer
like the hunger of shivering sharks;
the stars are no longer visible 

through the eye of your city;
red means blood now;
green  - the intoxication of false histories;
saffron is the colour of disquiet; 

black, the certitudes of opposition.
 
But, does this mean 

that dark nights will not dream
strange psychedelic nightmares;
and velvet mites shall not bathe 

in showers of vermillion?
Does this mean our intimate dejections
will not play Chinese checkers;
and the green ilisis of our illegitimate hopes
will not swear to brotherhood?
 
Come,
let’s mix colours;
let us distribute rainbows.

Note: This poem was first published a few years back in the 13th issue of the bilingual poetry journal 'Pratilipi'.