By Sunil Sharma
A rose or two, on a dump,
sway in the Mumbai wind
the light plays on the blood-red hues
—an aberration by nature, or so it seems—
to some cynics.
The tender flowers can turn
that smelly stretch into a
colourful spot of brown earth.
The solid waste generated
by the urban folks
running into 500 tons of daily garbage
in suburbs,
the place circled over by the kites and vultures
hungry—like them
can be unsettling to a visitor to these terrifying landfills
the aftermath of ravenous cities.
A red rose or two
surviving on the huge hill of waste
can bring the necessary
visual relief to the folks
working in that hell.
Sunil Sharma is a college principal, freelance journalist, author and editor. Mumbai-based, he has published 19 books—solo and joint. His prose and poetry have appeared in many places in the world.