Still

The old giant banyan tree

The hairy face of a wise elder

Smiling and contemplating

There was no incessant work

Absence of any strong beliefs

Pleasure of the sun’s rays

Wind soothing his hard ancient skin

The cold abundant graceful rain

Charming occasionally

Greenish parrots naughty telling crafty tales

Grandpa squeezed, shaking his heavy head

When the paan was spit

The chips wafers thrown on him

Tree just laughed at absurdity

The funeral trumpet blasted

A new building bulldozed

Slained wise man still as the mountains

Merged with the ground

With serenity.

 

 

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