Salil Chaturvedi
Slow Decay
The sun is nectar that cascades onto the leaves of Avicennia alba. A purple heron sits on a mound of sun-warmed earth, watched wistfully by a crocodile whose corrugated tail glistens with oil from floating casinos parked downriver. I fish out the Sunday newspaper and read a review of a book on the monuments of far-away Delhi. There is no mention of Turdoides striata in the book. As if you could write about a city without its babblers. As if you could tell fully of civilizations without telling the stories of purple herons and their dawn glides over the banks of rivers where monuments stand in slow decay.
ancient steps. . .
the winter sun
on this year’s moss
About the Author
Salil Chaturvedi’s short fiction and poetry have been widely anthologized, and his poetry collection In the Sanctuary of a Poem is available on Amazon. He lives on the island of Chorao in Goa.
“… whose corrugated tail glistens with oil from floating casinos parked downriver.”
So breathtaking! Especially the line quoted above. The ability to collapse so much in half a sentence nonchalantly is admirable.
And yes, you can’t write the story of a city without speaking of all its denizens.
Thank you Salil!
Thanks, Apurva!
Heart stoppingly beautiful, Salil!
Thanks E!
Loved this line—dawn glides over the banks of rivers where monuments stand in slow decay.
Beautiful ku too!
Thanks, Neena.