Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Just a glimpse from a distance,
and the sky reddens
with the glow of blood
rushing into cheeks and lips.
The red spreads on faces like abir.
The sun laughs into morning.
Outside a tea-stall,
three little puppies play,
and someone stares at them
with eyes full of glee and cheer.
The lamp-post watches intensely,
all lit up with sombre shades.
Water trickles down the cloudy glass,
as rain leaps down in torrential sheets.
Flowers set themselves free from bondage as
eager ears lose their attuned senses
in the beloved sound.And some secretly
get wet,drenched to the skin,helplessly.
The clock ticks away,left right left
tick tock tick,bhul bhul thik!
Pages after pages expire in the calender.
Time leaves no trail.The sand runs out.
They look at mirrors and touch the glass.
A splash of water freshens memories,
a shower of rain re-awakening the greens.
Some moments so delicate remains
that to touch them with words
breaks the bubble of felt magic.
Wet faces and whispering rains
tell stories of what remains.