City

Midway upon the journey of this city I found myself within a darkness...

I forgot to carry my bones from the back alleyway after the scuffle. Thou art so cunning

city, thy wound incurable, yet I can’t leave thee. With thy magic, I become invisible.

Often, Joy greets me, which comes from resisting thy way of life. Distorted identity on

broken existence. The hair on my head has changed its colour like thy mysteries.

Yesterday, black today grey. An empty stomach empties dreams.

Change which is constant, is in flux or a fluid that mingles with the mask of the people and

starts speaking to gain the maximum out of time. Time that I had now lost and running

ahead of me.

Surging soaring edifices, skyscrapers scraping the sky, concrete trees tossing heads a song

never heard. Smoky slimy air

The dangling corpse of value lies amid the trash of law at the square. At the crossroads and

intersections heart gets severed of trust, the mind unmindful of meaning.

A strange love and hate, sweet and sour, helpful and harmful, estranged marriage with you,

city. Perhaps you have been teaching me Nirvana, detachment from every emotion,

alienation from every boundary.

No one bothers when I come, when I go, what I do, who is with me or how I am. Nothing

matters. Complete detachment.

A strange comingling of your vices and virtues in my blood.

Chance, stance, romance, advance, finance, existence, and distance, you have it, city.

by Pulkita Anand