(1)
All of a sudden her mother started to
Smell like an onion
She rolled her chapattis
Like a de-constructivist scholar
Next day her father came to smell
Like a tomato
He churned the pickles
Like a Marxist-reader
“Did you get what I was talking about?”
“No?” It doesn’t matter
This is exactly how our plates
Clamour the rhetoric of their dinner
(2)
Monkeys who aberrated
Their tails down the
Rails of my window
They feed on two drops
of antique honey and a piece of rusted bread
They spat old
They munch and stare into my room
Licking the side panes.
Let me tell you
They are my colonial anthropologists
–Illustrations by Ashraya
Article 19 