A Night’s Medley

The tinkle of bells

And trinkets. Murmurs

Rise from gossips

And a whistle of a train;

Distant yet piercing.

The water boils,

Soft bubbles burst.

Some drunken brawl travels

Through opaque walls.

A smash. A scream.

Silence. Murmurs

Rise from daily lessons.

The scent of spices,

Jasmine, soap and sweat

Mingle with the flies

In food stalls and drains.

Footsteps echo through

Lifeless roads. Wheels

Clatter and hooves

Stomp. Workers walk

To and fro amidst

The nightly show.

Lights gleam through

Smoky curtains.

Red, green, yellow-

Patterns form and

Disappear on the walls.

Nights don't sleep

In the lighted lanes

Crowded with enjoyment.

Hoots and cries...

A frightened dog slips

Between two men,

Four, six, eight and more.

People weave in.

People weave out.

As the city snores,

The bazaar awakens.

The midnight story

Ends at dawn,

When grey fingers

Brush the horizon.

And the poet who

Witnessed it all,

Wakes up from

A fitful sleep just

Under the clock tower.

It's three.

Tired steps

Shuffle towards

A rickety door.