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Minor Gods

Pitambar Naik

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Best viewed on laptop or desktop

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  In the morning, routinely  a lot  of ants  try
miserably   to   escape  from  an  immanent 
apocalypse;  the  sun  is  dark-painted,  the 
media reports.  In the afternoon in dismay, 
a group of minor gods yells from a hostel in 
Bihar  to  protect  their  modesty  from  the 
claws of an Ouroboros.  In the  evening the 
sun rushes so shamelessly in favour  of the 
marauders of a temple. The next day a few 
rivers  die,  the  day   after  a   few    bridges
collapse,     and    the    same   vicious   cycle
repeats in  broad   daylight. The bloodshot 
eyes   of    the    local    officers    haunt    for 
illegitimate       intimacy.     At     night,     it’s 
perpetual   rather   sporadically  the  tribal 
villages miserably fail to protect their land 
from the  corporate  while  India  goes to a 
deep  slumber forgetting her pain as usual. 
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Pitambar Naik is an advertising professional. He’s a former editor/nonfiction reader for Mud Season Review and Minute Magazine. His work appears or is forthcoming in The Notre Dame Review, Packingtown Review, Ghost City Review, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, The Indian Quarterly and elsewhere. He has a collection of poetry: The Anatomy of Solitude (Hawakal).  He grew up in Odisha and lives in Bangalore, India.

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