Stupa

by Bhargab Chatterjee

Shadows remain behind every wall  
A Brahmi inscription
Erodes through the ages.

Those picnickers
Around the railing of the stupa
Step like silhouettes
Their foot-beats echoing everywhere.
Moving down.
Smashing the hard shell      
Wanting to smell the pearl
Putting it on their palms.
Morning sun offering a cold light.