City Dwellers in the Suburbs

Worn down by word-debt, a mendicant in the choice of words, you came to this nearly silent, nearly traceless suburb of mine as a city-dweller bearing the busiest clamor, the most word-heavy sounds...

This rash suburb of mine grew too busy trying to contain within itself that very din of yours, mocking the familiar silence of my hardened, lifeless existence...

Nothing much really...just at the head of some unknown lane's unknown turn in this suburb of mine, in the yellow restless flicker of neon light, this homeless suburb of mine sought comfort by taking refuge in the audacity of your fingertips to breathe life into its own numb, feeling-born essence...

Not in the ultra-modernization of the twenty-first century...but rather with a pair of silken braids from before the nineteenth century, a small bindi adorning the forehead, kohl-dark eyes, a bunch of white tuberoses and a shy reddish veil — this dreamy suburb of mine wanted to become acquainted with the new city-dweller...

Not in any ostentatious style...but in the orbit of the utterly ordinary, becoming a blue-clouded blue-clad one, wanting the companionship of that new city-dweller who came in the form of a priceless prince to seek the sky-blue against the rain-soaked canvas of sky, immediately after creating unspoken beauty in the rainbow — this sahajiya suburb of mine...

No no, not all that...just refusing to surrender to this measure of moment-disdain, this neem-filled suburb of mine wanted to become the unconquered one of the new city-dweller...

Alas! What a fate-man! Today all of this is merely some nearly-forgotten discourse to that new city-dweller who came as a sudden visitor...

In the coming and going of lonely afternoons with tar-melting roads and greasy evenings that slip into thickening darkness of dusk, that new city-dweller in the form of a new shape-maker seems more peacefully inclined to see this suburb in new form, having absorbed melancholy in various modes...

That new city-dweller seems more interested today in encountering this sahajiya suburb alongside the wayfarer accustomed to living a life of unbearable pain in every marrow of every bone-joint...

Gifting the bitter torment of solitude, as a consequence of love's untimely death, seeing this modest suburb today as a dark bud bent low in the desert storm — the new city-dweller seems to want to become a messenger of peace...