Mid flight

By Sanket Mhatre

Bending over clouds
We are dunked, face first
Into the broken arteries of Kolkata:
Dissected torso of a civilization, blinking back

A vanishing sunset sprints
below a network of lacklustre lakes
suspended in time
Green stillness festering in colonial wounds

Our fingers trace her desiccated tributaries, desolate perimeters
Brittle sentences from a lost fable breaking at the seams
While miniaturised humanity rearranges
its beginning and end

A new story foaming
At the mouth of its river
Yearning for reinterpretation
from citizens in the sky

We realise
Mid-sentence and mid flight
are the same things
spoken skywards

Sanket Mhatre has been curating Crossover Poems ? a multilingual poetry recitation session featuring some of the most prominent Indian poets from multiple languages. Apart from this, he has also been featured at Kala Ghoda Arts Festival, Poets Translating Poets, Goa Arts & Literature Festival, Jaipur Literature Festival, Akhil Bharatiya Marathi Sahitya Sammelan, Vagdevi Litfest and Glass House Poetry Festival. His first book of cross-translated poems, Sarva Anshantun Apan / The Coordinates Of Us co-written with Rochelle Potkar has been released by Varnamudra Publications.

Subscribe to our newsletter To Recieve Updates

    The Latest
    • The Algorithm Made Me Do It

      Escaping curated perfection: reclaiming messy, authentic self-freedom

    • Matchbox by Usawa October‘25 Issue

      This edition of Matchbox by Usawa explores the patterns, customs, and structures

    • The Intimate Affair Of Mortality And Disgust

      A haunting meditation on death’s intimacy, despair, and allure

    • The Room Of A Parallel World

      Sohini Sen’s The Dandelions Have It blends nature, mind, and oneness

    You May Also Like
    • The Dead Bougainvillea by Lavanya Arora

      i’ve been awake for three days work keeps getting piled on top of each

    • The Colour Green by Lakshmi Kannan

      Vibha Kaushik walked slowly, turning back every two minutes to check if Ramya

    • Two Poems By Aekta Khubchandani

      I’m the slowest smoker that I know of I’ve watched a squirrel eat a groundnut