< meta charset="UTF-8"> Haibun Today: A Haibun & Tanka Prose Journal

A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & Owner
Ray Rasmussen, General Editor

Volume 13, Number 4, December 2019

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Salil Chaturvedi
Goa, India

Broken Window

The window is blue, as are all windows around here. That’s one odd thing about this village. Windows can be very choosy when it comes to colour, especially windows that have seen rainbows.

The window looks out to a path—a world full of possibilities, which, at present, is manifesting itself as a bull. He loiters every afternoon in front of the window. Bulls, I think, like to be seen just as much as windows like to see.

A small clearing lies beyond the path, encircled by tall pine trees and some silver oak. Very little of the sky can be seen from the window. To windows the sky is like an unending well.

Here comes the boy, wearing his sky-blue school uniform, kicking a stone, his calling card. He’s torn his shirt again. He’s been in a fight. He’ll now kick the stone all the way home. There are no more windowpanes to break.

summer noon
the anabatic wind
brings a valley song