Wednesday, December 29, 2010

2010: Three final shorts

A kite he built
The prettiest in the world
Simply refused to fly

A snail
Stood in front of me
She started talking about army tanks and a cruel chief minister
That crushed her family

I kept wondering
How the snail had learnt
To speak in an extinct dialect of Gujarati

He tasted the cup of tea
I made out of coffee beans
He hired me for the job

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