Sunil Sharma
A girl-child, Tiny, Unsure, Afraid, Standing Near
The open safety- door
Of a neighbour’s silent house,
In a suburban Mumbai high-rise, Tentative,
Quiet,
Searching for a friend
With her round brown eyes, In that dusty narrow marble Corridor with locked doors,
Whipped by the whistling wind; Her solitary
Childhood As lonely as A bright fire Burning in a Deserted Street corner, On this late
February evening Hugging a locality Where adults do not talk But fight violently
Over car-parking rights.