The spades of evening
Sun cuts springs of sweat,
In me and all around;
dust enrages
Which envelop us like clouds
blurring the view,
A groundnut vendor
Unabated carries on with his work
As he cones up the wrapper
In its delicate twists
For waiting customers-
School children
Like little butterfly’s,
after the days lesson is learnt
In highest mirth
A group of youth pass by,
Displaying a rainbow of aspirations,
An old man slowly snails
Into the pond of his past memories,
As Life moves on,
Like a speeding train,
Smoking out debris
of the day
Under the all witnessing
mesmerizing Sky.