Watch yourself ride the waves

When inside a mad rush, you fail to feel your motion

When the lungs squeeze but the air still lacks oxygenation

Come to Fort Kochi.

Park yourself at the Ro-Ro stand, and look across the water

You always find a ferry coming, to pass the one sailed after

A car, a mini, auto-rickshaws, a dozen motor bikes

Sitting, standing, talking people, carrying look-alikes

Of all those who just embarked from this side of the port

Seem to have been sent across from the Vypeen Fort

See yourself in either one, riding on the waves.

As the ferries swerve to dodge the hyacinth so green

A Ship of cargo apparates, loaded to its brim

Your vision is then heavy with the containers of pain

But is only a minute's toll and the water calms again

All that you see now is a tiny fishing boat

One man rowing, maneuvering, keeping it afloat

The other one is pulling up the net that they have cast

Still drawing it upwards, the time I saw him last.