Memories Of Patha Bhavan

A city, fragile

 Don’t go to Kashmir, now.

Don’t go to Kashmir, ever.

Valleys, flowers and eternal gazing of a momentary lapse of

Reasons of a bewildered city,

Can never answer to your call.

This city grows in you.

Bombs are not falling.

Spineless, amputated screams are bribed with South City mall.

A war waits within.

You are just there, beside the nightfall on a slow celestial planet.

A dream, orchestrated with innumerous cobblestones on a windy day in Gariahat.

Silently, staring at your eyes.

A city, fragile.

Don’t pack your bags, now.

Don’t pack your bags, ever.

For now, feed the dogs with care,

And bear the scars.

And even if you want to kiss the nicotine stained skin

You’ll find that they are trying hard to shine it,

With a fairness cream - bought recently, from South City mall.

Disappointment?

They’ve got a professional for this, too.

I had his card.

Exchanged phone numbers in a social gathering.

He’s done his studies from New York, America.

A city, fragile.