Afterwardness ( after Guardian)
After thirty years’ return to native soil, saddening
to know oldest church in dilapidated condition,
the mango grove, and village school of thin,
number of ardent pupils with rigorous master,
all gone now, where is a question, could be
doings of Time, vanishings quick beyond our ken.
I see through my focused lensed of care and curiosity
recent debacles, of unauthorized buildings, temple
a place of gossip and congregation of wasting time;
all around me zig zag path, lonely stretch of chaos,
space occupying most for those not accommodating
space for poor and desperate, cursed times ;
rustle of wind answers and in me
for the humanity, Time conquers all .
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