This is a poem to draw attention to the problem of smoke pollution caused by agricultural waste burning. Growing up on the Indian plains, I remember that the skies were clear and the nightime always offered lovely views of the heavenly skies. As cities sprawled and developed closer to farmland, things changed. In New Delhi - the (ex) city beautiful, pollution from automobiles, combined with smoke from agrowaste burning, combines to provide a choking smog hanging over the city all winter long.
A few years back, I stayed at a 14th century ex-Maharajah's Hill Fort in the Princely state of Alwar, and observed agro burning from a vantage point.
My poem - Hill Fort Kesroli - laments the tramsformation of the skies from blue to black, from starlit to smoky, from clear to opaque.