A water tank for Allauddin Khilji now stinks of affluence- melts old in new. Memory snakes in through these yellow tunnels like a ghost in search of old. I pass between dreams frozen in an wooden bus, now soaked in rain-one that no one boards- for the seats are all cheap and wet, and rain can flood your throat like a bad memory- and the workers are all drunk and weary- they do not pickpocket dreams as they return home- drenched beggars sell books wrapped in plastic- and hijras are well behaved;
only sometimes, a graffiti on metro construction wall
questions the very reason for your existence.

Goirick Brahmachari

Goirick Brahmachari works as a consultant in a research organisation in New Delhi. His first collection of poems, For the love of Pork, was published from Les Editions du Zaporogue, Denmark in January, 2016. He co-edits The Sunflower Collective.