XI. Please forgive me it does not matter | Postcards from Kandbari

Photo by Mari Partyka on Unsplash

I am sorry
whenever I see
a jumpy group of young
people smiling into a
camera accompanied by
a gleaming white mountain
range behind them with
a sun, and Himachali caps
and sunglasses adorned on
their faces, all I can see
are remains

of plastic bottles
near a corner hidden
from the picture-frame.

Please forgive me
for ruining the fun.
I know how it goes:
water has to die
for us men to live

and yet

whenever I see a man
talking about putting
yet another factory in
the jungles of Himachal,
I get livid with anger.
Not that it matters.
My anger does not matter.
Why should it?