A wall runs along the road
like a long breath
wearing a crown
of thorns
for the sins
of Yamunanagar
Gratitude to it
Yamunanagar
does sleep in peace
with sins
it commits.

Some footsteps
of tea cups
who came and went
then some more footsteps
then even more footsteps
crowd of footsteps
in the end
at last
a rag
and all disappear
destroyed, devastated, demolished
numerous issues
debates
emotions
conversations
all
countless footsteps
in a moment cleaned
the hand behind the rag
hail to it!!!!

A trolley clings to the bicycle
and in it
do all sit
Parrot, Sri Krishna, Meera, Goddess on lion,
Chhtrapati, Mickey Mouse,
Dog who nods in agreement
and a shiny stalk of an unknown tree
whispering
to each other
gossips of lands
with names
heard and unheard
befofe leaving for the duty
of being sold
hastening through
the stories
and greetings
A pot hole on the road
all toss
a few inches in the air
and settle down back
in places reserved
together
Gods say
'So many potholes
on the road
why doesn't the government
do something'
whilst the government says
'Now only the Gods
can do something'

One Full moon day
In the month of June
Following the path of Savitri
who brought her dead half
back from the god of death
came two wheelers
a scooter, a Rajdoot, a bicycle and a Yezdi
at the feet of the banyan tree
and prayed to its roots
wrapping with threads
his bare torso
and asked for blessing
"For next birth and beyond
grant us with the same fortuity"
But the tree
did not
stayed speechless
in answer
and waiting to bathe in it's words
they sat
reclining on it's trunk

He was born in paper
Or he is made of it
Maybe he eats news
drink words
and breathes through letters
Without it
how could've he survived
in so much of it
the paper

Squares Squares Squares
Numbers Numbers Numbers
Numbers Squares
Squares Numbers
a paper before the attendent
lies
attendent doesn't stop
staring into it
Khaki is drenched in sweat
salty beard itches
spectacle descends down the nose
the meaning is not yet found
when was it???

Fortunately do the crows come
to eat away the filth
cawing
''Bolo Khadki-Dapodi Khadki -Dapodi"
"Pimpri......Kasarwadi"
back and forth
forth and back
they keep
stirring
looking at each
passer by
with eyes of hope
asking endlessly
''Bolo Khadki-Dapodi Khadki -Dapodi"
"Pimpri......Kasarwadi"
of restless beak
disgruntled
after gobbling mounts of filth
for more filth
yellow striped bellies
when filled
leave
and new crows arrive
to newly devour
from the heap of filth
formed
at the birth of the crows

Rana Pratap
with his wide open eyes
is looking at you
noting your every moment
he has kept his lance handy
Madhukarrao Pawle too
is observing you
with a feet raised
aimed at you
you are under survillance
behave
or else....

Bus clears it's throat
and spits men
Men clear their throat
and spit phlegm
or Gutkha
or a stream of betel juice
lining their cheeks
or just spit
for spitting.....
This is not a place to spit!!!

Chowk
the crossroad
has two sides
Do all crossroads have?
Two sides as these
Do all have?
two sides as these
And humans?

Coming from Pune
turn right
Coming from Mumbai
turn left
Sides too have sides
at once

Most come here of duty or helplessness

A red bus
red like blood
blood through the city's veins
covered with dust
packed with souls
weary
teary
on the same route
for years passed by
and years to come
sun running from one side to the other
and so the moon
it runs
gloomy
worth of a heart felt pity
with a twisted face
distressed
it runs
of helplessness
Like breathing it's last breath
it halts at Nigdi Chowk
and spits souls on the road.
then a moment of stillness
like death
and again starts the journey
up the route
different side of the divider

Getting down on Akurdi platform
Not all trains halt here
Nobody loves the platform
except the hourly local
bound by duty
since she is
love from duty
or a loveless duty
still for her
atleast the men gather
with thousand feet
cuddling him
from Akurdi Station
a P.C.M.T. bus leaves
for Nigdi Chowk
If affordable
an autorickshaw awaits.