TWENTY MINUTES
Twenty minutes of darkness
The hills disappear from sight
Twenty minutes of listlessness
The rain unsheathes its sword
Twenty minutes of rain
And the hills are washed
There is no one to clothe them
Twenty minutes are gone
And the people have returned home
Sidling to untruths
Where is the warfare
In minds or on roads?
Twenty minutes.
IN SUSPENSION
The day is about to end
The honking cars are muted
I don’t look out in fear of seeing
The rushed traffic, always believing
That the day ends with a whimper
Reminding of those days
When we could cross the street blindfolded
But the mountains remain unruffled
Stoic and resigned
Who are we to understand change?
The mountains are witness to all
The changes this hill town has undergone
Now they call it a city, everything has changed they say, cars have increased
Houses have vanished, malls have come up
Only the mountains and the rains haven’t changed
I remain suspended between the Old and the New
Ananya S Guha lives in Shillong where he was born and brought up. He has been writing and publishing poetry for over forty years.
PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL
Click here to access Wild Winds: The Borderless Anthology of Poems
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