Nabin has no angle. He has the bait dug out of Rahman uncle’s garden. He has the line forged by disintegrating a nylon clothesline his mother will miss soon.
He has no fly, lure. He has a long cane with all the potential to become a fine fishing rod. He dreams out a way to make what he has meet what he does not.
Then the dream is the big game. It feeds him, his mother, his father even – if he cares to return home. Ever.
I tell him, he is a zen master. Read him a koan. He dozes into the water circle in his id’s stream. His fishing line loses its self in that circle. A dragonfly stirs up the imperfections. This, in the entirety, moulds Nabin’s entity. Not that he should realise this or anything.
Illustration Nick Victor
Authored ‘The Circus Came To My Island’, ‘A Place For Your Ghost Animals, Understanding The Neighborhood’, ‘Scratches Within’, ‘Kleptomaniac’s Book of Unoriginal Poems’, ‘Eternity Restoration Project- Selected and New Poems’ and now ‘Herding My Thoughts To The Slaughterhouse-A Prequel’ (Alien Buddha Press)