without his morning newspaper
& until all the articles are read
& rated, a good big shit remains
awaited, and today's a particular
problem - Mr. Mishra's travelling
on a train and is constipated. He
is cursing spicy food and all the
headlines, as a small, stony pellet
drops slowly - the pain is unholy! -
first at the New Delhi railway station,
& despite his cursing & frustration
the next one takes all the way till
Tilak Bridge (the news gets no better,
just columnists' idle chatter) till one
last long, painful pebble comes out
of him at Anand Vihar and drops
down on the train tracks, and Mr.
Mishra almost shouts, as the pain
wracks him, he promises his cook,
his work, his world some serious
avenging, reading the last headline:
"In reply to the petitioner's PIL, the
Indian railways ministry denies the
presence of manual scavenging."
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