Grandma’s Cataract Eyes- Bhupali Deka

A City barely breathing

Degrading, in front of my eyesight,

A City once alive —

Breathing, in her cataract eyes.

Forming clouds of smoke

From towers of burning bricks,

And not the clouds that carries rain—

Those quench the thirst of seeds.

Snow field of jasmine flowers

Awakening sleeping bees,

Instead, mount of plastics —

Rotting jasmine seeds.

Jingling, twinkling bullock carts

Dripping paddy water,

Not the water from sewer lines —

Dirt, sludge and litter.

Once a narrow flimsy road

Two persons at a time,

Massive asphalt lanes now —

Swallowing lands fertile.

Once a narrow flimsy road

Nor a massive in need,

Leaving massive fertile land —

Blessing two meals to feed.

Embracing in her arms

Her heart palpitating,

Tear-soaked pillow —

Unsoaked scary uncertainties.

A home she desired for us

To rebirth and revive,

Fearing for our evil deeds,

We-be chastised,

A City once alive —

Breathing, in her cataract eyes.