A car wheel crushed the leg of a family on a monsoon evening. His spouse and son seemed strings broken. But the accident couldn’t mute his vocal cords. Words live in lines, and lines in voice – words and voice defeat his wounds. Her scarlet smile sprouts again. Fresh shoots appear in the farm of songs. His Adam’s apple rises and falls above a pair of crutches in the limelight on the stage. Rows of heads vibrate in his sweet voice flowing over the hard stones of agony. His suppressed ache doesn’t annoy their vicarious joys. Pleasure grows out of pain. Enjoyment and existence are the two sides of his song. First published in The Literary Hatchet, issue #14 by Pear Tree Press, US