Sunder And Sonati

When I am out Pitting And planting trees I rue the time Away from my desk: I could have been Writing poetry I think When I am At my desk Writing I rue the time Away from the pits: I could have been

When we were young Our fights were like Summer thumderstorms Intense but Quick to pass As we grow older Our behaviour grows colder We draw our differences out A prolonged drought We never forget We

We grow number and number Towards the numbers Who can feel the difference Between one million and ten? But when the virus strikes Close to home I am able to feel Viscerally The difference Between

What does it say About our society's priorities About our collective imagination If all we can do is Continue to inflict Jane, see Spot run Can Jane see Spot run? Yes, Jane can see Spot run On our

All the sages Down the ages Have warned us Not to look at The finger But rather at The moon It points to But we who are Habituated to look At the exam finger Rather than at The learning moon At the

When I meet An old friend After many many years Is it not myself At eleven, seventeen, Twenty-three or thirty-seven That I am catching up with? Each of us Has changed Oh, so much But the meeting