Walking in the once

familiar street this evening

I feel foreign

the dust  seems known

but people are unknown, missing

the urgency of the past

the traffic goes on.

There’s no marriage for me

I’m lost in the procession.

They all have matches

who cares my daughter is married

or not. I am here just for

the ritual of relationship

suffering yet another stasis

there’s no miracle

in the flash of darkness

nor any music

in whatever vibrates

—-R.K.Singh