Old glory - An ode to Charminar
Old glory
Counting years go by
Proud sepia walls,
Exposed to the bone in places
Wearing quotes of yearning and promises,
scratched carvings of young love
Sieving sunlight, painting mystique
on worn out arches,
Archaic messengers flutter
Missives float down, grey and airy
Urging you to look away from
betel juice stained corners
Aquiline domes look down with knowing eyes
at the wonder in mortal eyes,
gasping at the grandeur,
questioning the skill of ancestors,
tossing the plastic bottle
and modern mistrust.
Silence in the coiling stairs
choose to hear it
smooth stucco echoing heartbeat
Monotony broken, deep set turret windows
Tall steps, slow you down
and tourists clicking selfies
Musi waters rise and fall, time and again
Dynasties fade, history wears thin
over time and tears
Biding, not one but two plagues
And visitors come wearing masks…
