About the Author
Debarun Sarkar sleeps, reads, eats, drinks, smokes, labours, occasionally (ghost)writes and submits. He has spent a considerable amount of time living in Surat, Calcutta, New Town, Hyderabad, Bombay and is currently halting at Bangalore.
Landscapes gentrified out of hamlets
with sky-reaching habitable structures
are always surrounded by huge roads
and are almost always bereft of trees.
The dryness of the street dries the breath
with sunlight and dust. Huge asphalt
of parking yard shines, reflects as
if its glorious existence mattered
to be displayed like an installation art
at an art gallery in the art district.
The 40-storeyed building looks down
on the street like a frail person
so thin, so weak, without any sense
of grandeur like the brutalist structures.
Cars with their a/c switched on speed
past, blasting hot air and dust into
passer-by bodies struggling to locate
a public bus or an affordable hawker.
… for a ground to stand on … / 9
… and not belong to … / 35