Why Question Marks

Satish Verma

The milk run appears like 
flesh trade. A bigamous 
marriage with two ideologies. 

The politics looks like 
a fudged slogan. The silence 
was broken by screams. 

A dwindling faith, could 
not revive the ancient Buddha. 
There was no pity, no sorrow. 

Activism wades on home- 
turf. The colossal night 
releases the lynx vision. 

I am the cipher, you 
said, will not connect 
to any integer.