In Limbo 2

  Josie with her litter Maya   J osie is impatient  her litter of four  squeals, like stars in collision with the first filaments  of morning light. Maya drops by, indifference  in gait but it's in the eyes  that curiosity lounges impenetrable her gaze inscrutable her intentions  little Josie ferocious in her demeanor  assailed by throbbing pangs of motherhood roars like a tigress; the cashew tree trembles Maya jostles past cool and contained: she is an old-timer having seen the wall she used to sun on crumble reduced to rubble; she has swung on the pendulum of timelessness  and seen many a Josie   come            and                   go: but our Josie is different. She roars like a tigress; and plop, plop, plop,  drop the cashew fruits

Watching explosions in Iran , ran the NYTimes caption under the photo of a guy on the rooftop of his house. And lo, my own skies posterised by blithesome fronds of palmyrahs seem to turn  tumultuous with the threatening clouds of billowing smoke. I had come to the terrace hoping to glimpse  the flocks of migratory birds making their way back to their summer roost. A good percentage of them would also  fly over Asia Minor, now embroiled in a madman's war.  The photo was taken on 28th of February,  the first day of Israel/U.S. attacks on Iran  which took the country completely by surprise. On that very day, a U.S. missile hit a girls' elementary school in Minab killing 170 young students and teachers. Since then a few thousands have succumbed to the insentient insanity of this war, baseless, and uncalled for. An old write-up on the draft folder catches my attention. It is dated Feb 20th, 2026, exactly eight days before the global front took on an apocalyptic ...