top of page

"Room No. 470" by Kushal Poddar



She makes him feel 'late' early.

He has drunken three white

liquid crystals and sits

on the shards of a mirror called time.


Now the lady saunters into the lobby.

She complains about her roommate

who has transferred the ownership

of her necklace. She complains

about the traffic.


In the room no. 470 they mess up 

the bed, round shaped, under 

an oculus on the ceiling.

Why are the mosquitoes in 

an air-conditioned room?

Why do they perish as if 

they have lived the high

and regret not paying the price sooner?




The author of 'Postmarked Quarantine' and 'How To Burn Memories Using a Pocket Torch' has nine books to his credit. He is a journalist, father, and the editor of 'Words Surfacing’. His works have been translated into twelve languages, published across the globe.

Comments


bottom of page