And:
While the beggar croons falsetto,
While the cartoonist scribbles dust,
While the merchant skins coconut,
While the separatist bottles wine,
While the palmist spills ink,
While the taverner potions pills,
While the dancer shoots balloons,
While the sweeper crosses borders,
The gangster awaits with deviled bangles for his muse
In a house charmed by the ghosts of Syeds.
Three Sikh kings compete, converge, fail
In a triangular neighorhood crowned by a fortalice.
An unsharp spear hangs on the jaundiced wall
In a religious school sawed in half by a cleric’s ego.
Today I walked to the shrine of the jasmine women
In a street made sinuous, inked by blood.