There was still
the smell of old affairs
of a student & her teacher
left around Bharat Bhavan,
whose skeletal building
reminds one of the richness in its air.
The lush green expanse of the city
on a rainy day
was in deep slumber.
The old and new
by the not- too-old Birla Temple,
that stands like a scarecrow
between the past and the present.
It is only lakes and lakes,
the way a bride dons
The ghost of a closed mill
haunts the million dreams
shattered decades ago.
Although I suffer from insomnia,
Bhopal knows the art
of deep slumber.
Manu Dash's Other Poems
Topic(s): love hurts
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