by Hareendran Kallinkeel
Anil gropes through a dark alley. Flashes of lightning
illuminate the serpentine path. He finds two cobras tangled in passion,
rolling in mud. Splashes of the slime hit his face as tails flail.
“Indiscriminate lovers,” he says. Phlegm he spits out
splotches the dirt. “Vile sinners…”
Bile wiggles in his stomach, struggles as a lump in his
throat. The serpents’ bodies wriggle in a frenzy of mating. Moonlight
glazes their black skin, highlighting coiled bodies writhing in
blissful abandon. Anil slaps his palms against his ears to ward off the
The lump squeezes out of his mouth, lands in mud. It twists
and turns in the mire, takes form. A mongoose emerges, shaking off
filth. The predator pounces on prey, hunger gnawing at its intestines.
Flesh tears. Blood spills. Bones crackle.
Anil stumbles out of the alley’s maze and feels a breeze
soothe his cheeks.
He examines the bodies lying on the ground, their curly locks
entwined like cobra siblings mating.
“You deserved the worst.” He kisses the severed head of his
father and straightens his mother’s sari, hiked up in throes of death.
“You birthed evil through sinful union.” Anil claws at the
“Your offspring granted you deliverance; he guarantees you a
decent burial.” He throws handfuls of the slime on them.
“Together, you came from one womb.” He peels off flakes of
blood caked on his beard.
“Together you depart…” he says, “to the womb
© 2017 Hareendran Kallinkeel
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