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In this poem, Dr Aneek embarks on a journey to seek solace from the heat. At the same time, the landscape and trees bear witness to a melodious pursuit – exclusively for Different Truths.
In the dry land, the guardian sun is generous throughout the year. Trees are burnt brown and the highway is drowsy with alcoholic trucks on sprint. In one such truck, I am fleeing with my guitar, lest the angel sun gets angrier. The old guitar, much like me, hummed tunes that the guardian disapproved of. No sign of rain is visible for long. Are rains considered drops of mercy? I don’t know. For me, the highway is a river, warm with affection and steady with waves to sail on. But brown trees are vigilant. Scorched bushes stare naked at all cars, trucks. I’m moving with my guitar, with hopes to play all tunes without the fire of the ubiquitous guardian.
Picture design by Anumita Roy
