Arindom Borah Biography

When we are born, we are innocent babies and
About life and death, virtue and vice, we know
Not a thing. We cannot even speak sense, only
Gobbledygook; as if our ignorance to show.
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Can a wretched freak of a four-footed beast

Endure such calumny and lies? ‘Tis hard. For
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It's the witching hour and I appear to be walking on a road

Not deserted-but less people-no cars too here-I'm still walking
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Why should we live, my friends?
If life is just dictatorship's another form;
If we have not the liberty, to decide, our roads to traverse,
But still called upon to battle the ensuing storms?
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There’s someone walking in my mind,
Who despite all the efforts I make,
To push her out, refuses to oblige
And coolly says that she won’t vacate.
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