Chess in the City

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Do you remember, that evening?

At Gariahat’s noisy môr

There, under a sooty flyover

A city - playing chess,

Unfazed by the traffic uproar

 

Old, young, penurious, rich

Coming together, giving away

Gambits of their little lives

Where reality failed,

Victory sought in chequered play

 

‘Could anyone even lose?’

You had asked under the smoggy skies

64 squares containing within:

Adda, tea – the Mahanagar

In familiar but a fading guise

 

‘How can anyone leave THIS city?’

You had whispered, in autumn’s haze

If only I could have locked

That sliver of time: an empty dusk

The long-lost glow of perfect days

 

For leave you did –

In the zugzwang of our game -

Ah the rich Gariahat you loved –

Kati rolls, used books, knick knack dreams -

The bazaar’s bargains now so tame

 

If you return though, all remains:

Halogen lamps, chess in the night

Kings and queens of no-man’s land

Trapped in a bad bishop’s dream

With no more hues but black and white

 

The rooks and knights still march on

But some games are not meant to last -

For you will find us too – beyond the lights

Watching, smiling, fading away

In the shadows of a distant past…

 

19th April, 2026

 

Inspired by the chess players underneath Gariahat Flyover

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