She smiled and shone like a shy moon
Illuminated by her charming sun - the street light
The same street light under which mosquitoes sing,
Kids play badminton, and dogs bark at beggars
The same street light that does not have a political stance
Or an economical one
For it campaigns for multiple political parties
And rents out a 2BHK flat at Rs 20,000 per month
And rallies for a trade union strike happening next week
But why talk about a street light
When we have a golden plant?
I came across a golden plant tonight
She would have put my mom's jewelry to shame
Being beautifully lit by her endearing flame - the street light
The same street light that brightens up the textbooks of poor kids
And guards the return of people to their homes late night
The same street light that sweetens up pani-puris and momos
And glistens up the sweat beads of midnight food-delivery boys
The same street light that serves as the sun to security guards
And gleefully romances balcony after balcony in the surrounding flats
But why talk about a street light
When we have a golden plant?
I came across a golden plant tonight
She glowed like the FIFA world cup trophy at display everywhere
Basking in the love of her fan - the street light
The same street light that seems to be ashamed for some reason
With its head bowed down at all times
The same street light that measures the intensity of rain
And provides comfort of a power cut all around
The same street light that waves a flickering welcome to bats
And bids a serene goodbye to sparrows and pigeons
But why talk about a metaphorical golden plant
When we have a real one?
