The City drifts
like an insomniac
over the flyover
over the rail bridge
in the hiatus of the bazaar
with a day's leftover rotting
in its belly.
In this City
Everything rots.
Fish scales
pools of blood
outside the butcher's
vegetable peels
thongas of jhalmuri
rusting windows
of North Calcutta mansions
case files in High Court
torn tickets outside Academy gates
newspapers.
Hunger.
Dreams.
Even delusions rot.
The City sleepwalks
toward the washed out sun
emerging out of Ganga.
(If things don't rot
How will the city
Be fertile enough
To carry so many
In its womb
Each day?)
like an insomniac
over the flyover
over the rail bridge
in the hiatus of the bazaar
with a day's leftover rotting
in its belly.
In this City
Everything rots.
Fish scales
pools of blood
outside the butcher's
vegetable peels
thongas of jhalmuri
rusting windows
of North Calcutta mansions
case files in High Court
torn tickets outside Academy gates
newspapers.
Hunger.
Dreams.
Even delusions rot.
The City sleepwalks
toward the washed out sun
emerging out of Ganga.
(If things don't rot
How will the city
Be fertile enough
To carry so many
In its womb
Each day?)
4 comments:
There's always a method in madness. I find a strange affinity with the entrails of this unreal city. Here's my nocturn.
The hateloved city. The glimpses you provide are hyper-real.
I like your way of writing. Surreal but nice! A city that seems perfectly in order even in its chaos.
I like your way of writing. Surreal but nice! A city that seems perfectly in order even in its chaos.
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