Wait Poem by BASAB CHAUDHURI

The same road—
plants, a pond, waves,
sunlight and reflected rays,
buses passing, bicycles circling,
people waiting,
as usual.

Only the hoardings—
faces and promises
under the blue sky,
dreams of life
rising from ashes.
A man is born free.

Free, you are
as much as I am—
only context shifts.
Everyone bound to everyone,
none bound to none,
a camouflage.

There you are,
here I am—
perpetuity.
He waits at the bus stop.
Today. Tomorrow.

Day after,
after,
after.