AN EVENING IN KOLKATA

‘Une atmosphère obscure enveloppe la ville,
Aux uns portant la paix, aux autres le souci.’

—  Charles Baudlaire, Recueillement (from Les Fleurs de Mal)
 
I pass silently the hectic streetlights,
Tramping on the shadows numberless with posed busyness,
Smelling the nicotinized air purveying against the sombre sky,
Seeing the game of lights and hollow smiles,
Hearing the heartless clamours of drifting crowds.
 
I pass silently the city hoping nothing,
Except expecting desperately to flee from
Its hoardings, cars, concretes, slums, vanities, beggars,
That would intrude within my dream like fog in the air,
To create another nightmare…
 
The gigantic flyovers that threaten the sky,
The subways that lead down to hell
Poison my exhales with unknown fear.
I fear the city with all its realities,
Its lies and mirages formed by yellow sidelights…
 
I pass the strange streets, lonely amongst crowd,
Consoling my mind,
Remembering the day I left my home,
Now, knowing a city… not mine.