Debasis Tripathy

When My Son Discarded Bread Crust

Three slices of bread, two layers of garlic cheese
sticking them together, browned and hardened crusts
neatly torn off and placed by the side, food wasted -

that's my son, who doesn't know hunger. Well, good
for him. He is born at the right time - age of plenty
or lack of empathy? I stare at his plate. My father

on a dining table chair, reading newspaper looks sideways
his eyes shift to his grandson, down to the food placed
in between and loudly remembers the time that used-to-be,

offending Gen X/Y/Z and who not, essentially faulting
the upbringing of everyone born after his generation.
My son is busy multitasking - playing a game on phone

and breakfasting - doesn't give a shit to what
we are discussing, leaving us alone and behind
so much like history. He loses a game, Oh shit!

ABOUT THE POET

Debasis Tripathy does a regular desk job in Bangalore. He also writes - poems and short fiction. His recent work has been featured in Collidescope, Squawk Back, Turnpike, Kitaab , Punch Magazine & elsewhere. Occasionally, he tweets at @d_basis