Tirtho’s poem is about a ransacked home that evokes a deep sense of violated privacy and irretrievable loss, witnessed by silent, broken remnants, exclusively for Different Truths.
The twisted window grill
pitied my helplessness;
I couldn’t take my eyes off it.
In the ransacked rooms,
I felt a disrobed privacy
trying to hide its face in vain.
There were clothes and papers.
and treasured memories strewn
on the monotonous floor
like a lover’s scattered loss refusing to be gleaned.
An echo of a shattered silence
gave me a look that had a whiff of whine;
I knew what it wanted to utter
under its breath but didn’t.
The home reeked of intrusion;
My presence wasn’t enough, nor was my hug;
A broken door showed its tears
but I couldn’t shed one.
Picture design by Anumita Roy





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Wow. You have the best visual capturing the pathos of your lines. I have been in that exact moment-but I couldn’t shed one. What a bottom heavy poem.
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