Only truth

Money has endless queues in a sun
For old man who has outlived work.
Holy city’s weaver cries out a name

Which is  only truth ,full and final.
Stand in queue for money to burn
On the river bank, to Shiva’s ashes.

(in the holy city of Varanasi , corpses are taken in procession for cremation to the river bank amid shouts of “the only truth is Rama’s (God’s) name”)

Deserted homes

Home roofs are just some old air
A stratified layer left in echoes.
Old air is like our air soon to be.

Homes are first a dust, then air.
They contained bodies to be air,
To be no stones only dust in air.

(Kuldhara is an abandoned village near Jaisalmer, a ghost village deserted by its residents overnight in 19th century to escape persecution by a tyrant ruler)

A fractured love

If rails were to be fractured  early hours,
Should train coaches mount each other?
Should there be an earthquake of love?

We were sleeping on clackety of a train
And death dance began pounding earth.
We were only dreaming of our wedding.

(In the worst of train accidents the Patna-Indore express derailed near Kanpur killing more than 100 people and injuring several)

The ghost village

We hear inside of homes old air.
There are no children in streets
But empty terraces of an old air.

Their roofs are just some old air
A stratified layer left in echoes.
Old air is like our air soon to be.

Homes are first a dust, then air.
We are in bodies soon to be air,
To be no stones only dust in air.

(Kuldhara is an abandoned village near Jaisalmer, a ghost village deserted by its residents overnight in 19th century to escape persecution by a tyrant ruler)