WHISTLING CHIMES

ISOLATED LINES

A delicate moon of centuries waxes eloquent,
The monument's forehead receives its commemorative glance.
Singing its praises,
couplets are designed around the morning star.

The crown of restoration is a novel guest
Bow of elegance has always been a ruler here,
in this city of palaces and imams.
Centuries beaming at an ornamental face of history.
Layer by layer,
an old order is courted here.

All traffic jams and outnumbered streets,
modern tenders and estates greet
All mere children of a generational inheritance
All legitimate offsprings now,
seated on the citykeeper's lap.

At last, Alas! Alas!
River front beautification
Tidy front lawns,
how they all fail to notice her covered face.

Her isolated grief
Her deformed youth
Our very own foundling.
Her civilized declarations of pain, swayed by a roiling Gomti.

All human vices tattered her face,
just like they cast a roving eye on the river.
Bottles of acid that streamed in,
like a nimble secret,
upon whose bubbling surface
she saw an eternal face of horrors.
An intricate zodiac,
with complexion of her
youthful self-deploration.

Scaffolds on minarets
Road runners paving new paths
Workers with glistening torsos and hard labour on their lashes,
A city's pride uplifted,
She views them all.

Now she commutes all the way
where she works,
uncovers her shame,
even earns her courage.
Then the evening winds
and the delicate moon of centuries emerge,
blowing a cool swoon on her face.

She looks at the city,
reconstructed.
Her own face is a warpiece,
barbed wires criss crossing her youth.

Until the next day comes.

                 ***

          NOTE

Acid attack survivors and their plight. A cafe run by them called Sheroes opened in my city and inspired me to pen this work. I can never lessen the pain or struggles but in my heart uphold their courage in facing the world,as difficult as it is . Lets stand together and curb this menace. I have contrasted the idea of development with a lack of concern accorded to human suffering.