Things have come and gone.

 

Weeks on, I arrive here searching
For asylums –
To put out the fire within me.
The wait has been beyond suffering.

 

A figure of partition is the scene outside.
Most days, the rain beats the bay-windows.
The ocean throws across its mood’s fury –
Like the insolence of a brat-child.

 

The sky is more and more black,
Rehearsing for a storm.
Images of skyscrapers look at each other.
A boat whose sails will be torn…

 

Is mutely recognizing its isolation.
Perhaps, it is holding on to the world –
The way I am.
And no help is coming…

 

 

From Trident Club Lounge
Mumbai
2013

                          

Geeta Chhabra

 

From the book: Smash My Glass by Geeta Chhabra.