When I tell you what it means to me to live in Delhi, I won’t use trending music or a dozen flashing photos approved by the Ministry of Tourism— just a few words to conjure images-- that pair of young women brushing shoulders as they sip tea on the edge of the dusty maidan— or the thin, strong man in the next lane over who right now is stripping off his shirt as he assesses a growing pool of stinking water— and on a good day, this might be enough to get you to consider one or two simple ideas: we can remake this world; we can, and we must, my friends.Comments closed
Poems about the dark times.