Twenty years ago
a long night of delirium
It’s 2 PM hot in Delhi
I am alone
on a pavement
waiting for the bus to arrive
The bus stops and I hop on
‘Its been twenty years’
someone shouts
‘I’ve been waiting for you'
he hands me a ticket
it’s a silver stub
I do not know what time it is
I get off in a hurry
I run to the book store
and pickup the morning paper
VIOLENCE MARKS INDEPENDENCE DAY CELEBRATIONS
MOB ATTACKS MINISTER’S HOUSE
panting, I stop at your house outside Silver Talkies
you are there, lighting a cigarette, smiling
I say, ‘Its been twenty years, but you look just the same, was it you on that bus?’
you say, ‘The show is about to begin, I’ve bought an extra ticket for you’
and we rush inside: The Queen is being led away
her son lies dead on the marble floor
any moment she’ll be killed too
‘but ive seen this film’, I turn towards you
you are not there
the usher calls me and shouts ‘your ticket is twenty years old'
once again I’m running along the old market
I am trying to remember my home address
I wave to the bus but it won’t stop
suddenly, poor kids and old women are everywhere
offering me silver coins, praying for me.