Sunday, April 8, 2018

A Song 235


Kishor Rai -
a pull of breath on legs -
is not us.
From village Kathmandu,
allowed parking space
in Borivili.
Manning gates on unsure smileys,
sprints to honks of cars, bikes,
opening, shutting creaky gates;
proffers a Saheb! namaskar,
none cares for.
Nights in a plastic chair,
no parting gates
as memsahebs, sahebs
are in bed;
moons, mosquitos
offer company.
  

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