|From the Marine Drive, Mumbai.|
Some weeks are darker than others
some fortnight’s just shades of agony,
the distress of fathers and brothers
is hard to stand witness and see;
but every darkness gets over,
it's transient, temporary,
each minute it’s spinning closer -
some sort of lightfall. Clarity.
Not all light must be a sunrise,
all darkness doesn't cradle stars.
Sometimes the dark is a disguise,
for light’s got degrees and avatars -
lift up this face and recognise
light and darkness for what they are.