Reflections on a Metro

Reflections on a Metro

In this city of homes galore,
It was a shame, it was a bore -
There was no space for clothes to dry,
Nor space for souls to sit and cry..
Coming from a forgotten town,
I needed so to hang my gown,
My socks and skirts and kurtas too
The very was I used to do.
Calling my broker friend I said
Get me a home, but he instead,
Got me a hole, he called a home
Forget wet clothes, my sagging soul
Had not a space to sit and cry
(Nor space for blessed clothes to dry)!
In this crazy city of homes galore,
I looked for a balcony high and low
The time flew by and I grew old
Many a houses bought and sold,
There was no space for wet, wet clothes
The ‘angst’ ate at my weary soul…
I came to dream of spaces new
Often of leaves and flowers too
Where clothes would hang and yet be free
Just the way they used to be…

Niharika Bisaria