Breakfast for three, hundred and fifty rupees.

A trail of tea travelling through cups of steel,

One held over another.

Trees burdened by what they’ve witnessed,

Hunched over.

A sly wink.

A wrinkled smile.

No sign of rain, but a forgiving sky.

Aware, that people are tired.

Always tired, always trying.

A quiet sun.

A man in uniform.

An army camp, the landmark for directions to a school.

Water over the Vaduvakkal bridge.

Yet another green-clad statue, armed and gold plated.

Suspecting eyes at road blocks, movements monitored.

Waves too quiet, Mullaivakkal beach in memoriam.

Remembering what was lost.

A land disputed, remembers what could have been.

A mother still weeps for her long lost son.

A mother weeps anew, for one recently taken.

Photos clutched close to their chests.

Always watched, their thoughts under surveillance.

Barbed wire everywhere.

Barbed wire everywhere.