Lalbagh
16/11/2018
When the winter breeze begins blowing
When the city’s auditoriums fill with plays
Under the soft morning light in Lalbagh
I sit, reading to the wind
A collection of poems in hand
Short stories in my bag
Giant Silk Cotton Trees, three of them
With me, behind the bench I sit
Little men sitting underneath
Reading, laughing, smiling
Talking, dreaming, walking
In throes of togetherness
Across the pond over the waterline
Morning sun climbs up
Over Bugle rock, more people
Overfed pigeons oblige those who feed
Palms together some pray
At the sight of sun
Palms held some pray
Thanking the other palm that is held.
Contested Realities 