By Sunil Sharma

 

A rose blooms

on a dump in Delhi

It sways in the morning wind

the way drunk girls sway and swear

on the predatory Indian streets and

restricted cultural zones to express happiness and

freedom from

stifling familial

and patriarchal constraints

In Mumbai and other metros

on long Saturday nights.

The morning light plays on the petals

and creates a colour combination

of stunning pattern and beauty—

reds of different shades and tones

on that high-rise of unmanageable waste

that attracts the vultures, eagles and crows from

the smoggy skies and polluted roads full of vehicles

obscenities and rage.

A rose of pink-red variety

on a thorny and slender stalk

in electric green

fascinates the rag-picker

a girl-child of slim build

who stands still

and watches the flower

dance merrily

in that  urban hell

of a new kind.

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BioSunil Sharma is a college principal, freelance journalist, author and editor. Mumbai-based, he has published 19 books—solo and joint. His prose and poetry have appeared in many places in the world.

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