16 years on.
the lady has been regular with steady state Shiva;
sometimes an old gentleman.
started, stiff and straight;
a walking stick,
a waist belt holding the back;
an uncertain stammer of feet;
fumbles to Shiva, waits for her old man.
a stuttering torso down the gravel path,
a beard seeking directions from the wind,
eyes scanning the skies, coat pockets bulging with
yesterdays.
they shared benches at school, college, canteens;
drifted.
share a cement bench under a rain tree,
biting into vada pav, sipping tea.
fluttering prayer flags.

suggesting stillness,
a palm-sized snail ekes out
of a cleft in a gulmohar.
wet in the july rains
withdraws from nosy
greynecks, warblers, sparrows. 

in the karanji tree sits a
tiny, headless, light brown Buddha;
for a tinkle of time, the head,
at the foot of the tree,
regains pristine primacy.
Buddha sits complete till his head
rolls the Way.
Buddha is incomplete.

less trees.
fewer animals.
diminished compassions.


..........

a striped snout at a hole in
the trunk of the African tulip.
a squirrel examines the morning,
turns back from the vehicle rush.


.......


red seeds of the coral wood tree
clot the tarred road.
they won't root.
one pockets them.


..........


on the cement water tank,
around 50 greyheads spitting caws
pockmark the morning.



...........


a sombre, evening sun
slips behind shelves of clouds,
office hours over.

a heronry on the tamarind
shuts out the skies
robed in July clouds.
rains in between.