Sick Delhi

In the hot noon looking a cool place to rest in the night,

The Delhites boat is under the clouds of toxic sprite,

The water bodies stinking and encroached by the evil spirit,

The bravo for admired, favourites, sold to a passion of corrupt.

The flutter of the dirty curtain, give shade to sick inside the hospital,

The assembly of rivals, the false oath, the rage and fall,

The rowdy people, the leaders with arrogance, sunning duty call,

No listener to guiltless souls those collect and revisit dark wall.

Dominants growl of over-fed who fall in fits,

Invective women, dashing home, delivering babies blitz,

Criminal making shady offers, denial met with curved lips,

Women sat crossed legs, smoking, drinking waiting for client’s chits.

Unchaste girls going to marriage, in open air theatre, 

Dressed mostly in skin, trapping the groom by litter,

Long eyelash, breast bare, locks fall upon voluptuous curve glitter,

Beard and curls of groom making him queer gender, jitter.

The gravediggers arise early and wait for a man to die,

Tucking trouser-bottoms in boots, burying dead in tiny time,

The happy slave came, running, to him, another coffin outside,

And hurry, he kept digging the soil to bury another dead pile.

Young men and young girls bath together in a pool,

Young men and young women, friendly and cool;

But all, still very lonesome, friendless and fool;

Unknown hands passing from their temple and ribs like a tool.

I too am failing to understand, none too able to translatable,

Shocked to see the barbaric yawps, dashing on high way cable,

Wishing to leave the city and air harsh to escape hate racial,

I effuse my limbs in eddies and glide it in the lacy table.