The Road

The locals identified it as the cement road of the town

Built in the years after the independence by an honest man

It needed few repairs

And stayed like that for fifty years

It started nowhere and turned only once

But branched off in two places

It formed the longer road of the small town

And is used by the local Gods and Goddesses

On their yearly stroll to bless the town folks

Lit by tube lights on the poles that faced each other,

the road got ready for political rallies and movie stars

Apart from small cars and rare buses

Bicycles, children, people on foot, cattle and bullock carts

mostly made their journey on this road

Along the side of the road,

the working place for the weaving community in the early morning

Where men, women and  children

made a spread of spool of yarns on  poles

and applied paste to get it ready for the saree loom,

blocking every neighbors direct path to the road from home

Children carefully darted under

the paste dripping yarns to get on their favorite road

No vehicles entered on the days of celebratory mode

White screen, put across the road, made an instant open movie  theater in the night

People on mats and bed sheets dotted the front yards on the road

Children and elders vied for better seats

To catch the action of their favorite movie star

The ash gray road that spoke of rich  history

now  sports cracks and open spots,

sees less people out on their porches,

and more vehicles that zoom past

No more big screen old movies of movie stars

Locked in their houses are people in front of their small screens

The small town has found its


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