A Street Taught Me How to Count
Photo: Karan Madhok
Poetry by Shivangi Mishra: ‘Forgetful of two lithe directions, that damned street, / Faced and faced not in retreat, / Turning its back on dense civilisation’
Mad hurry, thudding footsteps, and a heart ticking at the pace of stairs in descent,
The drooping cold sky strewn all over as mist and smoke,
Winters in bloom often give way to an orphan desire that arrests the diurnal,
All for an emerald-white sight reached through a street that echoes in silence.
If at all, t’was hazy convergence on a street that knew two,
Forgetful of two lithe directions, that damned street,
Faced and faced not in retreat,
Turning its back on dense civilisation.
In a jiffy, I see, it turns back to the dense,
For its days in sprawl, for its days in light.
I know the maverick street wouldn’t count the other two,
For its days in dim lanterns and yet the brightest,
Through that doting street, another street couldn’t be taken.
That damned street, reluctant to lead through it another destination,
For the keys of time lost in visages known and nine.
Seven rays of merry anticipation falling into one white memory,
Walking along that unfinished street,
I sense now I count fine.
***
Shivangi Mishra is currently pursuing her masters in law at Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi. Her work has been featured in Adelaide Literary Review, The Hindu, and more. She is on Instagram: @_shivangimishra__98.
