The bricked walls

The bricked walls stand tall
Proudly recalling the past,
Unaware of the future
Unaware of how long they’ll last.

Hidden beneath layers of paint,
Beneath the layers of art
Preserving the artist’s soul,
Raw muddy beauty at its heart.

They’ve heard the carefree whistles.
They’ve heard the tired sighs.
They’ve seen a lot of tears.
They’ve heard the pitches rise.

They’ve seen the sweetest smiles,
Overheard the truths and lies;
Listened to the music of rains,
Hummed to the buzz of flies.

Decades passed by,
Artists changed,
But the walls remain the same.
A thousand men passed by,
Gossips changed,
But the walls remain the same.

The sun shines now on the fiery thoughts.
The moon soothes them all.
Day after day, and year after year,
The bricked walls still stand tall.

This poem is a dedication to my favourite place to hang out while sipping hot coffee in a hushed dark wintry evening, lit up only by the cozy yellow lights, as-green-as-possible trees, purple and white flowers, and a generous full moon – Ambedkar University, Delhi. AUD is so much like a sister college to us. Silent introspections and observations at this place that boasts a heritage, has inpired my writing way too much. So these lines are for this beautiful place, right next to our college, in the very campus that we share, and where I’ve spent some of the most peaceful evenings! 

 

 

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2 thoughts on “The bricked walls

  1. wonderfully explained the state of a wall who as a as a silent spectator has witnessed many changes and ups and downs ………..speaks many stories….

    Like

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