beyond the lighted city past the festive crowd beneath the melancholic halogen outside the shut doors and windows upon a lane paved with garbage amid an air stenched with ***** between two wooden wheels head resting on holed rexine arms limply down from heaven feet embracing the dirt sleeps another night from the ashes of day dreaming just enough to muscle another morn.
Rickshaw-pullers of Kolkata a passing thought on a festive night in a blind alley