Roadside Melodies

What do you want to sing about today?

The song of traffic on a busy city road?

Traffic that rushes past, and won’t look at you even if you call, heart raw and eyes sore?

Traffic singing under the street lights in drunken gallantry…

And twirling as one with the dust motes fuzzy near those lights, peach-golden on top yet dusk and danger below…

The fogs of smoke drift around the light headed bulbs as my legs move to the rhythm of the tune of despair.

Accompanied by horns of flutes, with sphere-ish legs of grey, the only spear to pierce the smoke, intent on its morbid play.

I could see their burning eyes within the drifting mist. My hands hung in halting vice, before the vehicle’s fist…

A fire, unkempt that burns in pits of hell, suddenly aglow on the streets – a death knell? Curling strands of wonder ebb and glow…

The street opens in deep dark holes, they swallow men in droves. The darkness within are shadows under hellish welting stoves…

Signs ignored, lost among the tinted patterns of city streets, lost because of their banal persona, because of the jigs they dance before our half-shut minds, each day  obscured in sunlight, sharp in shadow…

The dances are subdued in the images of another poet, as the night grows darker with the twilight song in its veins. I still walk, hoping to hitch a ride from the surface of hell!

A flash of emerald halts your quagmire hunt, a pull, a memory of hell hounds that guard your cynic’s paradise…

A shock from the darkened paradise, but hell-never-the-less; as the sickly glow of orderly light punctuates my concentration. The horned hell hound barks with wrath, as the car picks me up, to heaven…

– Upasruti Biswas, Shakya Bose


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