Bibhu Padhi / A Spot of Body, Without Blood

A Spot of Body, Without Blood (appeared in NDQ 84.1/2)

Bibhu Padhi

A body lies on a road in the north,
under fog and winter.
A hazy picture of mice
scampering away onto the road
from under its thin sheet of
helplessness, is all there is,
except a sheer white night
that seems to tease the warmth
of our homes, our extended lives.

Talks of help and national loss
continue all through day
and night, loud and clear, on
handsome faces, against a music
that is meant to be sad and near.
What is the purpose
of this show of love on a day
that has darkened earlier than usual?
Did the body ever know
what it was, why it was here,
what happened to it on the night
when it was worshipping
the difficult freezing cold?

I don’t know what I can do
from here, but all I know is
there is a body lying somewhere
in a city in the north, now hunted
and disturbed by creatures
we hate to be with, at the end of
a long struggle with himself
and a whimsical, fantastic god.


Bibhu Padhi has published eleven books of poetry. His poems have appeared in distinguished magazines and anthologies throughout the English-speaking world. He lives with his family in Bhubaneswar, India.

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