Friday, April 4, 2014

Day 2 104° C

This dark room is a blanket
underneath which I croutch,
fingers of fire descend
gives me the gift of languages,
sneeze and sniff
whiff and wheeze
pant and pour
tears boil
from coal rimmed eyes.
The burning bone
is an indelible stench
Therapy chokes the meek
medicines are weak
flames rise and fall like the
ebb and flow of a tyrannous tide.


Two days and two nights
rice water makes me retch
while salt is taste.
That citrus candy
is the large sun
that gulps a thunder
in the throat.
The thermometer flickers
one zero four
every sinew is a curse.
This heat smelts my inner iron
pink, yellow, orange
pelted to pure gold
as I close my eyes
the world drops dead
while I lift myself, waiting to waft
on the orange blaze.

6 comments:

Karan Shah said...

could relate to every word, the feeling is so mutual!

Anuradha Khanna Pentapalli said...

104... that's too much... what does the doc say? Take care dear.

Rubina Ramesh said...

If you keep on describing fever/flu like this.. it will fall in love with you :) Beautiful lines

Jaibala Rao said...

You have described exactly how I feel!!! :)

Pooja Abhay said...

I hope you are alright now.

JANU said...

Get well soon dear.