Ananya S. Guha- Three Poems

City Of Cities

At a corner curled is a robust thief
in city of cities beside a mall
in city of cities.
Fictive city, city of imagination
city of cities.

In city of cities the walled fortresses
speak of new age, unbecoming light.
Guns rule roost, in city of cities.

Shaft of light
droning voices
dancing figures
apostates in city of cities

In waking night
troubador of times
city of cities
you weave, a thin life
premeditated living
as arsonists and bombers
tear shreds of your life
in abject gluttony.

City of cities your riposte is
your will, silent answer to
marauders as you undergo face lift

breathing new life
into city of cities.
Ragpickers can only question.
Tormentor of times
city of cities!


Distress Buying, Selling...

She sells fruits or is it vegetables
She sells on pavements, white washed houses
her coins ringing notes of sadness
She disposes of vegetables in evenings of skies upturned
when volatile winter thunders.
She sells in a neighbouring village
her home, her point of no return
She sells in Shillong's bustling traffic
She sells she knows not what
her smile tells that she sells
and we buy, distress buying.
We eat. We haggle. We buy
and sing songs of praises.

She sells, distress selling.
We buy distress buying.
The notes emaciated, withered fingers
she continues to sell.
Pavements lined with vendors
lit lamps, when there is no light.
She sells whirling in scathing darkness


Dust

dust does not settle
it unsettles rovingly
it has movements
it wanders aimlessly
in houses, corners, books
and roads
the mind is dusty
when the rot sets in
the same questions, the same answers
the same love and hate, the same games
and the same same killings.
here in India it is the gathering dust
over centuries, and history takes a new turn
hermetically sealed.

dust is soporific
dust is hermetic
dust gathers in oblivion
then strikes, impinges on ways of living, thinking
in this mad swirling we rotate with it till it sickens
with a thud around the corner.

dust is haughty religion
megalomania and a lassitude
kill them you morons in India
Syria, Iraq or Egypt.
dust has gathered over centuries in benighted countries
so wipe it off your feet, give it a dash of blood.

bloody dust!