An Evening

The sky has turned a bluish grey.

I hear the voices of the city -

Words, music, traffic, train,

And shrill laughter floating in the lane.

The bells have begun to ring;

An old woman

Crouching in a corner of her terrace

Blows the conch thrice.

A white cat ambling by the road

C***s its head to listen,

But deeming the prayers and noise the same

Continues in its search for game.

On a fifth floor balcony, a girl watches

The silhouettes of birds flying back home.

She has her own music,

The kind that shuts you out and sets you free.

Temporarily.

 

A train whistles in the distance

Carrying lives afar and beyond.

The evening grows dark, the moon rises,

The wind lulls and blows;

And life goes on…