by Sonnet Mondal


Sometimes we run into someone

just for once in our lives,


and our bones refuse

to fit inside our skin


the same way.


Plans proceed as waves

and recede as doubts.


A fleeting joy

with gnawing pangs

of apprehension


the stretch between

experience and fear


seems like the time taken by a fish

to reveal and conceal itself


in front of a fish hook.