Onsra
Photo: Karan Madhok
Poetry: ‘When they burn me by the river, my pyre ignites / with smoke that rises thick and not sandalwood sweet / A stench grapples the air, reeking of desire / like overripe fruit splitting under its own weight.’
When they burn me by the river, my pyre ignites
with smoke that rises thick and not sandalwood sweet
A stench grapples the air, reeking of desire
like overripe fruit splitting under its own weight.
The smoke stays warm, metallic,
the kind that stings the eyes
before it reaches the lungs.
It billows strong, the foul perfume of what
we never had,
strong enough to choke the priests
and scatter the crow mid-caw.
Clouds gather, heavy with mercy,
and rain lashes down,
mingling my essence with the wind.
It seeks you out
and trickles into places it was denied.
The first drop falls right by your left eye,
where lips longed to linger
all my futile life.
My final kiss, cool and unrefused,
seeping through your skin
as I never could.
***
Parismita Kakati is an undergraduate student from Assam. She am particularly drawn to restrained, image-driven poems that allow emotion to surface through atmosphere rather than declaration. Her writing often explores unrequited love, ritual, memory, and the body as a site where longing leaves residue rather than resolution. You can find her on Instagram: @pari_writes284.
