Eczema
The subway stop squatted
like a queen ant—
its shadow twitching,
feelers tasting air.
Its mouth hung open,
dark, ribbed, wet,
hungry for the red rush.
We waited.
Ants in a straight line,
backs bent,
mandibles shut.
A man on the roadside bench
dug his fingers in,
scratched until fabric strained,
until need showed through cloth.
His eyes slid—
from a soft-shelled ant
in the queue
to the swollen queen above.
Scratch.
Scratch.
Scratch.
The sound grew teeth.
The motion wanted release,
a name,
a witness.
Silence clenched.
Words choked in the throat
of the line.
Some lifted their legs,
exposed themselves to air.
Some turned their faces aside,
as if that could stop it.
A few whispered:
“Eczema.”
Sweat. Heat.
Weather absolves everything.
The bridge thundered in.
The line ruptured—
ants spilling, scattering,
each dragging home
that raw,
unmentionable itch.
Dr. Kumar Kaushik Ranjan
Dr. Kumar Kaushik Ranjan is a mechanical engineering educator and a bilingual poet whose work resides at the intersection of logic and lyricism. He is a Senior Assistant Professor at Tolani Maritime Institute, Pune. His poetry engages with time, love, technology, and existential absurdity, blending philosophical depth with incisive social satire. His work has appeared in various literary journals. When not teaching or writing, he dissects the mechanics of longing and the algorithms of grief.
Facebook: Kumar Kaushik Ranjan
Instagram: @kumarkaushikranjan