beloved street, Park Avenue, Marine Drive
this street shocks you
one minute you are in kochi in her coloured bus
navigating her streets lined with billboards of jewellry , silk sarees
pliated school girls at the zebra crossings,
afternoon crowd throng mall courtyards.
and then you are in Salvador Dali' s painting
a red ship , imposing, parked a few feet away
her curves resting easily on the blue waters
rocking. Sea birds take flight into a picture postcard sky
the park with flowers that look into the water
and the strange sculptures that knew me young
tender coconut hawkers . all still the same
and ahead as we near the college grounds
sheltered by trees ,wisps of my youth caught in their boughs
light thoughts, bottled memories release
as i sight the boat house, strange happiness!
and i smile at the little girl in her ferry boat,
Promise of adventure rekindles at the fleeting sight
of blond golden tresses from foreign lands.
as fallen flowers still line this street,
outside the city groans with fresh pangs
of growth -churning out taller and meaner concrete abodes.
where earth is called dirt,
as the city hums a grim funeral rite
for the once green spaces of yore.
let this little street stand like this forever
with the sea on side, where destructive waters purr
and the ancient trees on the other.
this street , untouched with blood of felled trees
or with the hoarse breath of greed
a shrine for our children,
to what was once , is lost and yet can be.
this street shocks you
one minute you are in kochi in her coloured bus
navigating her streets lined with billboards of jewellry , silk sarees
pliated school girls at the zebra crossings,
afternoon crowd throng mall courtyards.
and then you are in Salvador Dali' s painting
a red ship , imposing, parked a few feet away
her curves resting easily on the blue waters
rocking. Sea birds take flight into a picture postcard sky
the park with flowers that look into the water
and the strange sculptures that knew me young
tender coconut hawkers . all still the same
and ahead as we near the college grounds
sheltered by trees ,wisps of my youth caught in their boughs
light thoughts, bottled memories release
as i sight the boat house, strange happiness!
and i smile at the little girl in her ferry boat,
Promise of adventure rekindles at the fleeting sight
of blond golden tresses from foreign lands.
as fallen flowers still line this street,
outside the city groans with fresh pangs
of growth -churning out taller and meaner concrete abodes.
where earth is called dirt,
as the city hums a grim funeral rite
for the once green spaces of yore.
let this little street stand like this forever
with the sea on side, where destructive waters purr
and the ancient trees on the other.
this street , untouched with blood of felled trees
or with the hoarse breath of greed
a shrine for our children,
to what was once , is lost and yet can be.