Often I think
how my body will be consumed by the world.
All this, I think being at an isolated time and space in the world
The air in the niche has smell, taste and colour
And my body’s thoughts are perpetuated
like the fragrance of a curry while cooking.
We are prisoners of our thoughts
nobody will be there! Everyone will appear like thoughts in ant’s hill
There isn’t a virus worst than a disgusting idea
We are homeless, wanderers by parting from homes
We don’t have pupil to view nature
We assume that being home is stay at hospital
Our being of born, marriage and death everything is endorsed on a piece
of identity paper
By engaging with death we turned our homes as hospitals
We are unsocial sapiens
Now how can we lock our thoughts?
Schools, shops and shrines everything are closed
Universe is infected with virus
What we earned learned and lived is all trash…
come, now, nature's abode is our school
At least now will rectify our misdeeds
At least now will know who resides, when they will return and when they
leave
how they are, and what they want to be…
Unlike WHATTS APP messages, will converse with open hearts
Virus will appear and exit
But if the enduring aspirations of living together wither away, they
seldom revisit
We are all global beings
Need to dismantle the contaminated thoughts
which infect our enshrined abode of feelings
With vision of white neem flowers
embedded in tender parrot green colored
leaves
Come, let us return to our abode…
(25-3-2020, to the social and physical victims
of Corona and Corona warriors)
