That night was washed in heavy rain.
I came out of my concrete wall,
where I remain stuck all the time.
That is the job of a Nail, don’t you know that?
I am here for many years, forgot the count.
Stuck here in my work cycle,
as you are stuck in your life,
Morning, office, evening, night, morning again.
Once in a while I take leave.
Go for a flight through the night.
It is difficult to feel the pain of a Nail.
These flights through the rain soaked sky
Gives me immense relief.
I have seen prostitutes haggling on rates,
Her small child resting on a car-bonnet,
Under the half-gaze of the pimp,
May be the possible father.
Pimp father is busy lining up the next client.
Saw a body lying on the road-side
Many commenting on its level of inebriation.
But I found that the poor chap has kissed the
dusty road, last good-bye. Long back.
It is funny, this Iron Nail has a soft heart.
Oh, I forgot, I am a member of the
family,
I am the Nail on the wall in Tiku’s
room.
I have seen Tiku’s
family fighting useless fight.
But Mumbai and its relentless time
machine,
It keeps ticking.
Today is running after tomorrow, always,
else the meaningless marathon will be
lost.
If I get lost in my flight,
If I get removed from the wall,
I will forever loose my loving vigil on Tiku,
I will not be able to see his sleepy half
smile.
Please tell him then, I loved him, very
much.
Allow me to get on with my flight.
It is still raining heavily.
Composed by +Sugata Sanyal for Jhaalmuri Winter Special magazine
Read the e-magazine here http://issuu.com/suparnachakraborti/docs/jhaalmuriwinterspecial2015
Previous works by the author
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