Where VIPs have road escorts,
As do the politicians; a different kind
Here though, that with a blue pill,
Makes everything look larger by volume.
And there is nothing undemocratic here.
Even the dignitaries, with
Well-ironed coats and ties, walking to a cafe
During the noon lunch break,
Are greeted by falling cluster bombs
Dropped by the ever present crows.
And meanwhile in the Colombo bus stand
There are lowly campus students
Squatting on unflushed floor pits
Caught in a moment between
Push and relief. While near the Beira Lake,
There are giant droppings of elephant dung,.
As if a pachyderm had been constipated.
And shit happens here all the time,
And still we rise above the shit,
To be mesmerized by this bomb of a town.
Turning evils, like horns, road rage
And jaywalking, to an outpouring of “holy shit”
Gazing at whitewashed colonial giants
Given a face-lift but no pedicure.