Dalal Street 

Three pm, Dalal Street

Horny lobos and the hoarse hawks cry,

Their cramped minds delirious with insomnia,

Hunter lives measured with stocks and shares,

The twisted and breathing money crushes them,

Yet they survive; smelling blood, bee and women.

Six pm, Dalal Street

Twilight immerses the wild incantations,

The animals buy and sell their dreams,

The sane sex hour of their lives,

Arrive like a temptress and devour them.

Cause freedom also has a price.

Meghna Maiti