Sunday is a holiday
Shops are closed
In the city
Streets are deserted
Children eating supper
On footpaths, mothers
Are casting nets to seal
Their darlings from the night predators
Lonely, lovely night
Streets and alleys are half-dark
8 in the evening at MG Road
Buses, cars speedily pass
A man is boiling rice in a jug
Some are sleeping on the street
As warm limbed corpses
A saloon, a lone customer,
Beside him, dogs lie like logs
Another sight
Rice is boiling,
Mother watching mobile
Her dreams are waiting for a meal
Men are taking tea beside I 
Kolkata
While chatting and healing
Day’s vilest wounds
Two steps away
A pair of men of the city are cooking
To keep fit
For tomorrow’s duels
Parties, processions, slogans,
Shops, fairs, business, blocks,
Generations waste on footpaths
