Now

The city walks, jumps and slides,
Brakes, skids and falls off,

And passes,
Over bridges, under subways,
Past red lights, cutting lines and lanes,
hitting cyclists,
Banging trucks;
howling over, Tugging,
frightening joggers,
Skipping hitchhikers,
blinding eyes,
and bashing and crashing
Into broken dustbins.

Screaming horns, screeching tyres,
Panting old men, audis, and
A little kid making balloons out of
Carry bags.

Slow margazhi mornings-
Ordered sounds,
Sung-hummed over
Temple speakers;
Shattered coconuts,
Crushed lemons,
Violins, voices and
Venerated odes-
Love poetry,
Hugs and kisses,
To a flutist.

Segments and narratives,
Grace, beats and unhinged 'quence,
Blazing eyes, drunk panache,
slapping thighs, broken strings-
The noted nuance, brazen,
unbound-blastic,
No bourn, no borne.

Bhajans and Adhans,
Howling wind, sleepy dogs
With half open eyes,
Unlit roads,

Emanating elan,
Staccato poise;
Flashing, dip and dim,


Footsteps on a stage,
Dark cold sky,
Days to go to thai.