POEM
In the suburbs of Mumbai
parks and gardens are aplenty.
One day is not enough
to count the number of
parks here in Mumbai.
With darkness slowly descending
and sodium vapour lamps opening their eyes
the greenish-yellow lights come
to life till the morning
partially unveiling the dark blankets.
Citizens flow to the parks
to spend their invaluable
time there for more than one hour.
Lovers, couples, parents,
children and people who prefer to be lonely
and aloof from others thinking about
what they deem appropriate etc etc.
At central Matunga
there is a circular garden cum park
covered with green carpet
and tall trees here and there
bearing different
kinds of
blooms and concrete
chairs around and in the middle.
Parents visit the park with their
children on holidays
who play hide and seek game there
which bring smiles to the parents’ lips.
Friends who pay visit discussing
various subjects pertaining to matters
which to them are important.
The vehicles circumambulating without stop
except when red signals say ‘no’ disappear
until flickering of green signal which says ‘yes’.
Similar is the case about citizens who
wait to cross the road.
In this imperfect world
of absurdities these
people visit the parks
which are dime a dozen.
About hundred feet away
from the beautiful
circular garden cum park
there is a sprawling park with concrete
chairs on the sides of the park.
This is a park exclusively
for lovers (need not be lovers)
who make merry
and a number of voyeurists
who take their place in
the middle of the garden from where
they enjoy the merry making of the lovers
thereby arousing their carnal instincts.
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