I heard
You’re gone,
In the stretched muffled breath of the night,
In increasing pain,
No forecasts, no warnings,
No information, no preparation,
Infected by the Corona virus

The siren of a distant train retreated slowly,
The exuberant moon dozed off,
Felt the touch of the contracted sky, and
The autumn chills.
Don’t know why
Palms were wet,

All these years
Your shadow remained only an impression
Your voice lost its rhythm
Your song lost its tune,
Ever since you crossed the ocean
In one jump,

It’s big on your side of the shore,
Big are the shells, snails and turtles,
The waves, the coast and the coastline,
The sand, the rocks and the sand castles,
And the celebrations.

Unexpected was your news, and
Unexpected was the return of your memory
No trumpet, no bell, no ring;
And you are gone.
But I had hoped someday
When we meet again face to face
Either on the banks of river Yamuna or Hudson,
Over a hot cup of tea,
I’ll ask only once
The question that I have never asked
“Are all your actions like this?”


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