December 16,2012 Poem by Shirani Rajapakse

They made a movie on a bus
riding around town, no one
.
heard the songs, or
saw the dances. The action stars
.
were new. Later, someone threw
in a name – Amanat. On and
.
on they moved around Delhi’s leafy
avenues, curtains drawn while the engine
.
kept time to the sounds inside. No cuts
no breaks the actors played their
.
part. The heroine protested – like all
heroines do. A new face she was dressed
.
for the part. An item girl they sang as
she danced. Munirka to Dwarka
.
it purred on its way. The wheels turned
round and round as the winter chill crept
.
through the leaves on the trees
and a single leaf fluttered to the ground,
.
torn apart. It fell across the road and no
one took note. Just another
.
leaf among so many in the city. Action
spent the bus came to a stop but
.
before they could shoot again the city rose
in wrath to demand a ban on the script’s
.
repeat. Candles lit, they waited it out, but
the wheels grind slowly round
.
and round. And while the old men argued
in vain inside colonial walls another
.
leaf fell silently to the ground.