Changing Times

The highland lass doesn’t sing anymore.

She spews profanities instead

as she stands by the road.

The Road!

That stands out like a black scar,

as it runs in from the horizon far,

Dissecting the highland and

Devouring the meadows green.

The road is the recipient Of her curse.

For like an enticing Apsara,

It had lured away her man.

The city on the other end of the road

Is her man’s current abode.

Author: gdutta17

Born in the year 1968, my childhood was spent amidst the beautiful scenic landscape of a small town in India, Ranchi. Though an engineer by qualification, reading, writing and cooking are my passions. Another thing that I am passionate about is my country, India. As they say, a lifetime is probably not enough to explore the whole of India. Currently based in Kolkata, I can be reached at gdutta17@gmail.com. View all posts by gdutta17

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