The Park

by Abhinav Kumar

In the park, we are all equal.

Two lovers, perched on a bench,

Eyes bright with laughter,

As if atop the Eiffel.

The urchin plays with the heir,

Zig-zagging through the bushes,

For the ball does not discriminate.

The old man strides besides the young ‘un,

Matching him step for step,

Each lost in his own thought.

A maid, her old sari swishing in the breeze,

Jogs past a young lady,

Striking in spandex.

The labourers, faces peaceful,

Sprawled beneath the peepal,

Slumber like kings.

The air rings with many sounds,

Rhythmic feet, heavy breath,

Laughter and chatter.

In the park, we are all equal.

As we step out and don our masks,

Some head to personal saunas.

Others trade the cool shade,

For the harsh light of the sun.

Abhinav Kumar is a lawyer from New Delhi. His stories have appeared in Indian Literature, Reading Hour, Muse India, and Jaggery, among others.