Sewri’s flame

 

We had to walk through grimy ways -

From a sooty station, in the east,

(I wondered how in all that dirt

A flock of flames could find a feast)

The mucky walks in Sewri’s heart

Led to mudflats also pale,

But a burst of pink then brought back life

To change the script, a different tale

 

This winter’s weariness comes alive,

In a sea of pink, a flamboyance,

With flamingos from the Rann, beyond

Here to thrive and perch and dance

Serene waters, benthic rich

It was as if a different place,

A city of clamour on one side,

A wall of peace upon the bays

(Exactly as it was long ago,

Heptanesia, in the shimmering seas,

Long before these isles were fused

An urban jungle, on British lease)

I stare for long at the avian plumes,

Flamingo, tern, stork and crane -

If they could find their flats of peace

Who was I to come, complain?

Beyond the dust, the dirt and din

There's refuge in the city too

Lessons from these vagrant hearts

In flats of grey and waters blue…

26^th July’ 2025

Flamingos migrate to the creeks around Mumbai every winter from November, from the Rann of Kutch but also from Africa and the mountainous heartlands of Asia. The mudflats of Sewri are one of the most frequented of these locations, Thane Creek, Bhandup and Nerul being other hotspots. The moniker comes from the Spanish word ‘flamenco’ implying flame or fire, alluding to the vibrant colours of the bird.

My first impression on landing at Sewri station and walking all the way to the mudflats was one of disdain and annoyance, given the dirt and grime of this part of the bustling megapolis. Yet the viewing of the birds changed the emotions, their congregation in large numbers due to the algae that thrives in the waters. That they could find refuge – and thrive - in the city despite its grime and dirt was a philosophical lesson as well, that perhaps perfection will always be hard to find. It’s in a world of greyed out imperfection, that we - ever moving nomads - need to find our bubbles of vagrant peace, our havens of fleeting colours and refuges of dreamy poetry. Just like the flamingos, in all their flamboyance in hidden nooks and creeks of a Maximum city.