THE HOUSE
Dr. B. Parvati
Like an isolated, alone,
Stood the magnificent house in the midst
Of the coty. Tall trees sheltered it from sun and
Curtained the house from viewer’s gaze.
Quiet reigned in it in a sea of noise
Its height proclaimed its wealth, achievement.
Then one day it died a violent death
Like a dog run over on a road with a red trickle at its mouth.
Glass windowed top floor toppled to the ground.
Thunder-struck, quake-hit it seemed.
Roofless walls on which once wooden frames stood
Stood like burnt trees, waiting for the buldozer
To be grazed to be dissolved in a day.
Desert quiet descended on a barren place.
They sang about tall towers and a cool swimming pool
And the song was but begun
When it fell into a swoon.
In the midst of a city a lovely spot.
The good old house died a violent death.