Arti’s poem deals with the city that never sleeps, a metropolis filled with dreams, aspirations, and life’s constant rhythm, exclusively for Different Truths.
Tall, concrete, shining monstrosities thrusting their way to the sky, soaring, competing with the few lonely birds, lost, forlorn specks that seem to know not why, a tired sun still wearily shines through a stained grey sky, dirty and heavy with the discontent of humanity, but even though weary, their eyes, dull and teary with the untiring efforts of reaching new heights The city never sleeps It pays no heed to the monotonous hum of tuneless lullabies sung by vehicles, as they lumber noisily, on bruised and potholed roads, roads lit up with garish neon lights, that seem to blind the starry-eyed fortune hunters, fresh from their villages of birth, lazy days of laughter and mirth, promising them untold wealth and adventure wrenched away from home and hearth The nouveau riche dash about in their shiny cars flashing obscene diamonds and ringing cell phones blue jeans, straight hair, t-shirts tight they look like clones, armies of humanity, poised for flight, flight to unchartered territories, new boundaries, clones, manufactured from the factories of the city that never sleeps The planes keep flying, the trains keep rumbling, new buildings rise, the old is crumbling, in the relentless race of humanity, values and principles are stumbling, each alley, each corner, bristling and humming with life, whether it be day or night, while in their rooms, lonely and wizened the elderly lie, tossing and turning in stealth, staring blankly at their TV screens their only companions, awaiting the release of the death while the young follow their dreams In the city that never sleeps and even though, the face of humanity, has been tarnished beyond repair, the pain has been subdued, the greed for success laid bare, hope continues to burn eternally in the human breast, the man continues to labour in his burning quest, aims for the cities, the hypnotic bright lights, to better his lot, reach new heights, labours sweat out tears of blood In the city that never sleeps And so, it carries on, the pulse of this city continues to beat, steady, measured, sometimes erratic, the pavements worn with static, Worn with the imprints of millions of feet, hopeful millions, that in crowds, congregate, sheltered by the clouds of hope that permeate into the bustling metropolis injecting a life-giving elixir, into the veins of The city that never sleeps.
Picture design by Anumita Roy
Arti Chopra was born in 1953 and is a published poet and artist. She is a graduate of B.Sc. Home Science and a B.Ed. Widely travelled, her poetry looks deep into the causes and results of the environmental devastation around her.
As a military wife Arti has worked for the welfare of military families . She lives in Singapore and Goa with her children.
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