Those wrong lens – Delhi Poetry Slam

Those wrong lens

By Bijita Sharma

They see nothing—
no, they are not blind.
Rather, nowadays they are overseeing,
observing irrelevant details.
Yes, it's true,
the lens they were given proved defective.
Now, every detail is exaggerated,
transformed into a mess:
the calm blue pixelates,
a sole face splits in two.

And then there are the colors—
reds, yellows, greens that should soothe
but instead, provoke,
stirring storms within their chest.
These lift them, on unseen wings,
carrying them into the clouds.

There, high above, they chant—
words flow, ancient and rhythmic,
though the meanings elude them.
Unaware of their profound
echoes,
yet they feel its ancient weight
as it spills from their lips.
What they utter,
they do not grasp—
yet it grasps them.


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