At the end of the vigil

The nurse is at the bus stop
Leaving the night-shift behind her
A milk van and a rickshaw pass by
Leaving a whiff of incense
The doc who had come for an emergency
In pyjamas is honking at the exit gate
Those weary after running around
In tunnel dreams are rising sluggishly like statues
On the footpath

Tiffin carriers greet florists
Bicycle bells are calling out
To plastic lotuses in the ponds
The ward boy wielding a long broomstick
Mistakes an orange peel for the fruit
Somebody who unveiled a mosquito net last night
Forgot to remove the nails driven into the sky

The trees convulse
Shaking off the darkness

Let all hospital doors open
Let all children with feverish eyes come into my embrace
Let wounds heal with the mere kiss of a sunray
And let the tears not curdle the milk of our bosoms.

AT THE END OF THE VIGIL