Delhi – Through A Long Glass Window

(At Max, Saket)


i see the graveyard, covered all in green

from atop, the ancient graves have lost their sheen

birds fluttering, outside at eye level do lean

gliding in air, into each other, so mean

are their eyes? look closely, do they gleam?

are they vultures? so hungrily prowling, so keen

to devour, circling in circles, graves dead seem

planes zooming past were an hour ago seen

like a pre planned timely visit, the birds come to dig deep


sounds however were all very mute, silenced sweet

from behind a glass window, a memory without a beat

i am told all Delhi was once so green, but now much asleep

our graves are left to creep, without any heart’s leap

with piles and piles of rubbish, piling up a human history heap


as evening flows, black smoke in plenty blows

lights creep out, behind trees, industries, time slows

mirror, glass window turns into, graveyard no more shows

bald patches in my hair bore, witness to future welcoming woes