Kolkata
Seeing the pictures of the collapsed half-finished Kolkata overpass took me back very vividly to some time I spent there in a small hotel just by that very roundabout.
I’ve walked along that road.
Saw the overpass they were building.
A woman at a standpipe washed
her sari while still wearing it.
An unwinding of faded pinkish cloth,
a holding up of the end of it
to dry out in the sun,
a turning round, a re-wrapping.
And now, newspaper photograph.
The overpass collapsed.
Thirteen people killed.
A small addition to the cost.
