Street Side Cafe

Street Side cafe

A kaleidoscopic collage of life,
Scurrying around their daily lives.

Seating alone in a street side cafe,
Subconsciously conscious.
Brown skin, beard and a hooded shirt.

Lady with a head scarf,
Child holding her hand,
Furtive glance, apprehensive,
As she goes out to the street.

Banker, impeccably dressed,
Cell phone to the ear,
Briefcase in hand.
Apprehensive, suspicious,
As he hurriedly goes in
For his morning cup of joe.

A packet wrapped in green plastic
Left on a table.
More apprehensive glances.
Roll of newspaper
Left by someone.

Our lives will never be normal.
Suspicion eating us all.

Distant wailing of sirens,
People running.

With a heavy heart, step out to sidewalk.
Patrons, breathing a sigh of relief.

Corner from the street side cafe,
Flashing lights,
Paramedics and police cars,
Some drunk driver has just ran a red light.



There was a storm here yesterday,
And I saw this tree
Bereft of all the beautiful colored foliages,
Strewn all around it on the ground.
One leaf was clinging to a branch
Quivering in the winds, trying to hang around.
I wanted to tell that single leaf,
Hang on, winter will be over and in spring
All your friends will come back with new hope,
Spreading happiness to all who come by.
I promised that on my way back home,
I will pick up that single leaf
and keep it between the pages of my book
till spring comes and everything will be happy again.

Mom, I am sorry I will not be coming back home.
Not to-day, not ever.
Little did I know the evil storm coming for me,
To rob me of my spring forever.

There was no warning, nowhere to hide.
The evil came from everywhere,
and when the storm was over
like the fallen leaves around the tree
We were all lying there.

Alas, unlike the tree
Spring will not bring back rejuvenation.
From here on it’s a long dark winter.
Mom, it’s cold, damp and dark here,
How I wish for your warm embrace,
But it’s not going to be

All around me I see dark shadows
All who have come here before me
From four corners of the world
From every nationalities.

Unanswered questions
Will remain unanswered.
(Because) those brokers of peace and death,
Those clad in the grab of patriotism and religion,
Clad in the grab of nationalities and language,
Will lip sync to “Never Again”.

Yes Mom, it will never again be spring for me.
But till the day every parent takes a stand,
To teach the real meaning of peace and respect
To their child,
This storm will visit many other unfortunates,
To rob them of their spring.
Mom, it is too dark and cold here.
Will the summer sun warm me up ever?
Mom, do not grieve.
Like the leaf between the pages of the book,
Do not keep me hidden in your heart.
Be my voice and shout to the world, NEVER AGAIN!
Do not allow another storm
To blow away thousand springs.
And when your work is done,
And time for a well deserved rest has come,
Look for that lonely leaf,
I will be waiting for thee.