Tabu Atop The Twin Towers

I imagined, the other day, in a surreal dream
That I heard thousands cry, an earload of screams
In a vision that blended the near and far
In the WTC Towers, I saw "Chandni Bar"

People jumping, girls dancing, extending their trajectories
Girls helpless, yuppies natty, in their binding factories
Struggling in inertia, with Newton's first law
Steeped in a world of mistakes, with no personal flaw

Conflicts, tragedies and pain, are indeed truly epic
Illusions do lead us, the light doth play its trick!
Karma? Happenstance? Or a venerable Greek god's curse?
Just how much can I guess, in stray blank verse!!

Old Boy Billy, in Macbeth thus spake
"It will have blood," he said;took a commericial break.
Now I wonder about, his impersonal pronoun
As a blinding, living proof, of forces real but unknown.

But this can be said in a world that debates
That memories conceal feelings, and a million fates.
Facts, analysis and other forms of paralysis
Sketch the past well, but not the Future's crises.

Art forgotten, truth forsaken, we walk, each in his clan
Post-mortem facts to death, in prime-time elan
We ponder, pontificate: Oh, what went wrong in my plan?
Our clutched bits of truth, defined by attention span.


We apportion blame, hold vigils, our candlelights do glow
But we forget dear readers, from justice peace doth flow
What vigil, what editorials, what rantings against war?
If our sunshine gallops,conceal the dimness of Chandni Bar!

On CNN, the U.N. appeals, for a dialogue of civilisations
Its ad budget aptly swelled, by the grace of warring nations
After which truth is told, in ways only a camera can
And then, in the tone, with which they say Tall-e-ban.

Tabu stands atop the Twin Towers, her moist eyes aglow
Upon the Statue of Liberty, falls her moonlight shadow
Blinded verily by sunshine, we shut her out from our eyes
And then we look in fear, for hijacked jets in open skies.