Painting With A White Border

Dhreja
	       gazes and gazes at the painting with a white border
On the mud wall of his hut

He does not know that
	       the earth is round like a pitcher
He thinks it’s flat like the earth itself
Which ends on the horizon

All this happens under the canopy that is the sky
	       the juggler is playing
	       the drummer is beating the drum of fate
	       somebody is blowing the conch in the thakurdwara
	       numberless planets are orbiting around each other

Dhreja tries to remember when he was happy last time
He was happy once, but he does not remember when
Man cries before he learns to smile

Now Dhreja hears the cries of all his children
		            born after him
He smiles when he realises that
He is the father of them all
He is God himself
It was he who created the painting with the white border
He is overwhelmed.

PAINTING WITH A WHITE BORDER