Back then, the seller told me that it’s made
of a buffalo’s horn, (didn’t I know
then that it wasn’t a cool idea?) and would
last a hundred years or more (though I
didn’t get the connection). Its base came off
in five months, and I had to fix it on
a block of wood. The two carved birds, with
intricate details, eyelids and all,
could have elevated it to a pure work of art
but for their perch, a stunted tree branch
that looks like a cross between an uninspiring
schistose structure and concrete. I still like
to look at the birds when I wake up, to
reflect on their gaze upwards, as if they’re
looking eternally at a taller tree branch, or
for some rain that falls slanted in the dry wind
to rekindle a horn that’s not dead yet
in their core, breathing a glow to those eyes

– Jose Varghese

Author’s Note: My poems are inspired by the sensory and emotional experiences of individuals who negotiate the political and ideological spaces they live in. I am drawn to the significance of objects and the varied perceptions of them from different angles. Issues related to class, race, caste, and gender provide the creative disturbance that’s often the starting point of my literary works.