The entire world Was drowned in water, muddy and still With its belly, white and slimy, a bit ugly and a bit swollen Looking upward to the sun Beating bright and ruthless On the parched earth. It was the first fish that I noticed With lifeless eyes and open, innocent lips As a hint of decay and who-cares, Suddenly in the lake By the side of which I had been for my stroll, Then I saw three more Big ones, fat and dead Floating with their bellies upturned Like the three upturned boats Asleep on the sands Sparkling occasionally white and blue and green And coral red, A spotless sky above Was now slowly getting punctuated with dark gyrating comas Of the kites ready to plunge for a feast The upturned fish with naked, inviting bellies looking upwards in eternal oblivion, Like the decaying upturned boats On the shore Waiting for none, Their cracks and crevices being timeless Where festering maggots ticked like seconds, fast and sure, A sage-like butterfly with folded wings

carved out of the sky in the nearly dissolving sun in the horizon Sat at the corner in meditation, Then two more did I behold with wings made from the moonlit nights And painted with the blues of deep lakes below the snowcapped mountains Chasing each other Unbeknownst to the upturned boats And the upturned fish , capsized like paper boats And the many annihilating maggots ticking in unison, And the cracks and the crevices Through which the time bled drop by drop Unheard, undeterred, The fish didn't know, nor did the boats The sun shone bright and ruthless Awaiting the spring to keep its promise.

Ravindra Tandon 6/10/22