Timeless Conversations

Timeless conversations
On ageless stairs
A lane bustles by
Bullock and beggars jostle each other
As the urchins run and squeal
Charlatans tell fortunes
To the gullible at will
And then sell them trinkets
With panaceas inbuilt
Vegetable sellers and peddler pushers
Screaming and whispering they were
And the colours bathed together
In the clamour of lights
You could buy anything here
Even a Gandalf shaped bong
Or intestines of a goat
An ice cream float
But none of that mattered
To the two old men
Worn and battered
They met here each day
And spoke of times lost
Their failing memories
Hanging by a filament at best
They were here before the bustle
Before the bricks were laid
When there were meadows
And tress for shade
The river that flowed pure and strong
Was a trusty retreat
But now there was crumbling mortar
Bits of pavement chipped away
The air is dank, smoke and odours
Replacing the cool drinkable breeze
A once brilliant sunset
Is sucked of its glory by steel
The mountain view is now a building
Faded black by exhaust fumes
Still the old men sit and talk
Still waiting for the world to change
Till then they tell their grandchildren
And each other again and again
Of times when there were meadows
And trees for shade.