alive remain we, until grounded,
in depths of soil, as we are rooted.
a moment takes to uproot the base,
dry the leaves of existence, life devastates.
2nd November 2014 was a day of disaster for those innocents who went to witness an event .
Read my guest post about it on Vishal’s blog : http://vishalbheeroo.wordpress.com/2014/11/06/guest-post-soumya-vilekar-read-on/
This is an imaginary excerpt of a real incident.
through the lanes and down the streets
where once stepped thy feet,
I find myself on faltering knees,
behold! the dust just flew
in the gushing wind…
the painted vase still vibrates
from the touch of thine fingers,
handicrafts and carpet
exhume thy scent …
the aromatic fragrances mingle…
near the jeweler, who sold antiques
I see thy bracelet silver,
studded with blue sapphires
carved with my name clear…
the moon shines overhead
directionless I return,
through the sands of time
lookin’ for another clue in the desert.
Dim the hope , bleak appears the future
in every grain of the field’s harvest
rests the destiny of poor .
while the ones who had
a silver spoon
hardly noticed the worth of a grain…
a morsel was all… for a day,
while the couple sleeps
under the leaking roof
of the shelter
with a noise of
in emptiness .
One who grows the crop
the children of everyone…
he has the glass
full of water
until the morning sun dawns
and he toils again till
his last measure.
The irony of life
tonnes of food
being thrown in spills
as leftovers ,
while the farmer
remains famished .