Camera mounted on dashboards
Capturing twists and turns,
Emblems on once shiny metal warriors,
Strutting peacocks, now sand caked war machines,
Shattered windshields, the only shield
Window to a relentless landscape,
A world eating itself up from within.
Kaleidoscopic bits and bytes,
A journal put together,
A story –
Of twisted mortar, bent steel rods,
Toppled antennas, once the apex of civilization
Torn shreds of satin, nylon and silk,
Adornments of a land or
Perhaps shards left from a beauty
That walked and laughed on jeweled streets.
Rapid changes in course,
Avoiding collisions is second nature,
Fueling swirling sand dunes,
Avoiding, perhaps a small boulder
Or an gelatinous mix of c4, cordite,
Locked in a stopwatch,
Device counting its own end,
Ready to record,
Gods of past and god men of today,
Chanting their death dance.
Woman covered in a black robe
Death shroud hiding everything
Remnants of a once flowering soul
Only visible through sandy impressions
Left by the soles of her calloused feet.
A sand covered black shroud
Lost in the timeless dunes forming
And vanishing in an instant.
Her image- the only silhouette on a street,
Once a jostling market,
Now an empty burnt structure.
Her footsteps – the only echo on a street,
Once a musical haven, for singers
Wishing to listen to their songs,
Echoing of yearning walls and souls,
Now just –
Silent echoes of empty streets,
Silent remnants and holders of empty memories,
Of Gods, god men and men,
Done with their deathly dance.
What a detailed narrative of the aftermath of war and it’s lopside. Reminds me of Ashoka the Great and his realisations after the Kalinga war.