The shrill long siren of a distant factory
Momentarily drowns the cacophony of crows :
Relentless shouting of slogans in the streets -
A sparrow twitters. And the horizon clears.
Bleary eyed school children huddle in uniforms
startled by the fresh-polished sparkle of their shoes :
People are already thronging the barricades and stands
Looking at the flag-staff, steady arrival of jeeps
Men in white kurtas, the sparkle of brassbands ....
A mad jeeps cuts through the crowded street, scattering
Coloured pamphlets like bubbles of soap :
The sun now comes up. Soon, Freedom will come soon !
An old man with ghoulish eyes crouches by the drains
Munching a green twig, and watches in silence
Looking nowhere. N o w h e r e
A street dog, impatiently, barks.
The old man is counting his sixty years perhaps
The crowd grows slowly, suddenly, restless.
A ragpicker on the roadside, eagerly
picks up the coloured pamphlets, quickly
looking both ways, the old man coughs
and watches foolishly, still counting
his sixty years : the arrival of more jeeps
ruddy sparkle of brass, men in white kurtas
children reeling off well-rehearsed slogans :
at seven-thirty sharp
the tricolour unfurls.