![]() Fabiyas M V is a writer from Orumanayur village in Kerala, India. He is the author of Moonlight and Solitude. His fiction and poems have appeared in Westerly, Forward Poetry, Literary The Hatchet, Rathalla Review, Off the Coast, Structo, and in several anthologies. He won many international accolades including the Poetry Soup International Award, USA , the RSPCA Pet Poetry Prize, UK, and Merseyside at War Poetry Award from Liverpool John Moores University, UK. His poems have been broadcast on the All India Radio. Sahib’s Waiting Sahib’s head swings in an arm-chair while waiting for his son. A midnight fox howls. His son hasn’t returned yet. Disquietude deepens. Dry leaves stain adolescence in the cannabis lit nights. His son washes his wounds in rum. His stepmother’s tongue was sharp. Bell rings. As he opens the door, Sahib’s mind’s hinges grate. His son passes by as an emperor from a lawless kingdom. His son can’t lift up his sin streaked eyes. Reek of liquor mutes Sahib. Each night burns until its edge. This is love’s non-profit pain. The Down-trodden Sense His knowledge catches fire. A flame, a burning ache, Spreads from the scalp To the sole of his mind. Later, he finds that flame Dead in his distant daughter’s Wound. If he tells it aloud, People will call him mad. Feelings are sometimes Synchronized in the track Of telepathy. His mind Receives signals again. His call surprises his Spouse beyond the sea The moment she muses About him. Cells of souls Merge together, sharing The distant pangs and joys. Mind has been linked With extension cords. It burns with the power of Deepest love. There’s a Down-trodden sense, waging Within for recognition. Mango It’d a bitter childhood like a girl in penury. It could defend itself against the molestation by pests. It didn’t succumb to the hot rays. Now it’s ripe, and its chubby cheeks so charming. It’s a forbidden fruit, but Chami’s impulse is vehement as the monsoon waves leaping over the breakwater. His teeth wound its soft skin. He sucks its sweet syrup from its soul, and rises up to the heaven. Slowly he falls down into the hell of fatigue and drowsiness. Again, he repents of disobeying his diabetologist’s advice. a coolie woman’s delivery digging digging digging she defeats the dry sand red dust enhances her resistance thanks to the underground cables and her sweat lest our telephones won’t ring he’d filled her womb with transient love and vanished behind the crowd but she won’t let herself drown in loneliness she’s conscious never anxious of swelling love inside this is a unique pain like one from the depth of nature she withdraws into the seclusion of the bathroom hearing her shriek the local class passengers rush to the door her baby falls down through the open toilet pipe as a train gives birth somebody pulls the chain locomotive lullaby ceases newborn baby lies safe on the track between the right and left rows of wheels she didn’t make it unnatural with tonics tablets and tests she didn’t waste thousands during the last ten months.
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