One Far Off Evening

I still can see that Jamun tree, Still feel that evening, all haste free, Field fencing made of thorny thor, Dry twigs and whatso availed for, A watchful kite gliding by, A mongoose keeping a vigilant eye, Under sugarcane crop be-stirred by Breeze, a harmless snake sliding by…. Farther back, sounds of singing bells, Bullocks drawing water from wells, I see farmers sowing their fields In hope of rich crops, karmic yields, Birds and bees hovering around, And the scare-crows vigilance bound, Grey white clouds slowly receding, At love's labour overlooking…. And then I half hear my mother call Me, and the scene begins to fall. There is giant black machine Moving on to foregoing scene, Smoke of diesel and black tar, It levels up everything at par, One hurtling down its dusty load, One more surfacing a tar road…. And my evening's pleasant dream Turns into a nightmare grim When my village was devoured by The growing girth of a city near by One far off evening…. ____________________________________ Reminiscing | 15.03.2020 | Topic: remember, village, city