From the Window seat

I see- Grey sea Grey sky Kites fly Wings spread like an uchiwa*, soaring high- Above the twenty-second storey circling the minarets of Haji Ali* And I see down below A green halo Forms a seam in the city of dream of shanties and glass towers and streets with toy buses and cars I see-…

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A call away

There are people you want to talk to Whose call you wait for Your finger hovers over their number and you think ‘Is this a good time?’ And then you say, ‘Probably not.’ Your fingers scroll down hoping by some miracle or the power of your mind they call. There are others on the same…

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