1961, construction began———the Architect drawing a dream———in poured concrete.
A substantial challenge———to give lodging to Democracy———to give form to the State when she
is still forming———coagulating from Partition and Injustice———nebulous, indeterminate. 1971,
the people demanded Revolution———Independence and Liberation, lofty ideals———petrified
Architect granted Absolution by his own demise. 3000 Moons later———completed
posthumously———they say his ghost haunts the Rotunda———whispers
to Members of Parliament———Spirit & Science———Spirit & Science———Spirit & Science——
—conjecturing whether he got it right———the precise Configuration of Arches to Atriums———
Courts to Porticoes———Aperture to Volume. It’s true———he had not envisioned the serene lake
as Moat———the heftas Fortress———the Machine Gun Military Men patrolling its walls———
the questionable use of that teal carpet———let alone, the Dictator———to whom his specter
gesticulates wildly———something about civic duty———having lost his voice.
