I need a face
for society,
and identity.

That was the derivation made
When father wanted that I must resemble him,
But Maa silently wished I’m like her brother
Who was a rich police officer
who always mouth costly cigarette.

Both the parents have an internal fight
on my face.
Many times after the literal dissection
Made on my facial anatomy,
I knew my eyes, nose, chin and every part
Including the waves on the hair on head
Belongs to some or some of the ancestries.

For twenty years they waited
To let my face grow with relevant changes,
they waited for my face should have the
twenty year’s harvest done land look
to see exactly whom do I represent.

Fortunately, my mirror never reflected anybody
Other than a cover of a pornographic book cover
And resembled with
a tiny land of microscopic volcanoes.

For these years
I tried to look and look through the mirrors,
put my face hidden under the faces
of statues , erected propagating their greatness
to contrast with values and ethics of the present
I appeared void with expressions.

Being a center
Encircled sighs
Encircled pocketed economy
Encircled with speed and noise of the traffic
Encircled with the rings of the concrete trees,
Encircled with the voices in isms
The face tuned and turned for nothingness.

I woke up to a terrible dream
******