The City
The slithering winds passed through my ears,
While hounds of cars and bikes were passing by,
Like a pilgrimage of sheep, heading towards somewhere,
There was smoke and dust in the air,
Intoxicating me into its thin layers,
For a moment, I was alone. I can smell the rotten buildings
Which they call heritage,
A dome stood in front of me, it was almost fifty feet high,
It was on the corner of a building, built like a Colosseum,
Showing symmetry on its rounded side, the windows were many,
Yet I suffocated seeing it,
The tall, pale columns of Corinth and Ionia,
I was petrified, I don’t know why.
The grey atmosphere seemed terrible for humans.
Trees black, sky grey, so the tall buildings were,
Suddenly, I was in the traffic, water gushing from a street tap,
There were horns blowing all around,
Soon I reached the bridge and it was infested by Devnagari,
The yellow Ganges flows beneath it,
ships were busy, so everyone was,
It was not the first time leaving the city,
But it felt so.
I paid the driver upon reaching the station, and stopped thinking much.
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