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Not Even A Noon Street
Not even a noon street, not even Gwalior...
The crisscross ropes on
the bamboo charpoy
threw down lucid shapes
as I lay under it
seeking respite
ripples of a fable in an
afternoon of restless sleep.
I touched gregarious monsters
gentle on a fortwing palace doors
holding an inner city turmoil.
A stranger time so far away
and you beckoning me to
cross the long stride darkness
of an aftermath of a vicious moment.
A curving railway track binding us
receding in another season
that afternoon. 

– Dr. Amitabh Mitra
July 13, 2003
not-even-a-noon-street
 
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