Kushal’s poem is a surreal, fragmented meditation on violence, captivity, and illusion, where memory, city life, and hidden desires converge in chilling intimacy, exclusively for Different Truths.

I

The chicken sacrificed 
by my neighbour crosses 
the fence in between, its body headless, 
and it leaves a Parkinson's line 
Polka-dotted by blood.

I clean the stench with a sight -
a scenic wallpaper that wraps the house,
flipped inside out.
In that pocket, I live 
as safe as a forgotten ticket.

II
 
Only I, the beast, can beat 
the confinement. The beast must 
wait until I feed myself,
secure the lock and hang the key
from a peg in the Zoo's office.

The beast owns the neon maze
of the free streets, unseen if it 
desires so and see if it feels 
the hunger of desire, but not every night
it roams free.

Otherwise, the city sleeps with 
the republic bricks wrapping it,
days and nights tucked in, evil 
and largesse hidden within, and dreams
about laboratory twins, mass killings,
reflection of the ceiling light on 
the Bloody Mary in a chalice that mimics
an atomic explosion.

III

Just a murder! These occurrences 
get trapped often in our timeline.
You say.
We have
pork loins and an origami session 
with the small girl who tolerates us
because of her love for our balcony.
I dream
about her slow and sudden fall and
wake up. Winter is here. The culprit
is still at large.

Picture design by Anumita Roy

Kushal Poddar

Kushal Poddar, the author of ‘A White Cane for the Blind Lane’ 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 editor. His works have been translated into twelve languages and published across the globe.