by Parth Pandya
“Ravi and Geeta 4ever”,
Screams the uncouth carvings,
On the old wall of the edifice.
Just beyond “4ever”,
Lies a mosaic of carvings;
The intricate work of another age.
Words seem to float through
The tiny curves on the grille;
Sliding away from nothingness.
Are these gentle whispers?
Or loud harangues,
From ghosts of the past?
But who can decipher this?
They wouldn’t know.
They wouldn’t care.
Not the solitary German,
Leafing through the pages of
‘Discover India on a budget’.
Not the peanut seller,
Hacking at flies
Like an emperor chagrined.
Not the man relieving himself,
As the bulwark lends itself
Gracefully, for the disgrace.
Nor the crying baby,
In a makeshift swing,
On the perch of his makeshift house.
No, the ghosts are unheard.
Buried in the jostle
For earth, for mind, for memory.
The tombs of past rulers;
Overthrown by the masses
From an uncaring future.
Parth Pandya is a passionate Tendulkar fan, diligent minion of the ‘evil empire’, persistent writer at http://parthp.blogspot.com, self-confessed Hindi movie geek, avid quizzer, awesome husband (for lack of a humbler adjective) and a thrilled father of a precocious two-year-old boy. He grew up in Mumbai and spent the last eleven years really growing up in the U.S. and is always looking to brighten up his day through good coffee and great puns.
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