Wet hair, falling down past her ears
looking into the foggy mirror
gasping, she looked away
ashamed to have seen her face.
She was once a beauty
now haunted by some cold blooded murderers
with gun powders sprinkled
like pepper over wound.
A valley which used to fail
before the spectators as she was illiterate
when situation demanded her to be fake
with all her mountains and frozen lakes.
Valley whose face is now less than ordinary
even ugly to some fascists but she still rolls
her dyed hair of different shades
and she still nourishes her
brown green eyes that looked like monalisa.
Intolerant and ungrateful they named her
yet her corpuscles never stopped
their shikara as they believe it as her freedom.
Being a victim changed her mind
victim of oblivious rape and acts
maybe brought a cold alteration within her.
Alteration where she stopped blinking
as blinking made the view much more clear
which she couldn’t see as it was not a view
but a chain of cannibalism.
Once she was young and even after
all the vultures stopped to rest for a second
she still returns to that young age
as her corpuscles breathe when she is young.
Death for the valley is a return to life
which they believe is an example of suffering
while she happily accepts it as her immortality.
My name is Kabir Deb. I was born in Haflong and completed my schooling from Kendriya Vidyalaya, Karimganj. After that completed my Graduation and Masters from Assam University, Assam. Poetry has been my passion and a hobby from my childhood. I look forward to change the society with the power of poetry. When the society is facing with many political and social conflicts I would like to show them that poetry can destroy even the most destructive force in the society as poetry knows how to create. My work has been published in ‘To be my Valentine’ edition of Hall of Poets.