I walked for miles
through miscellaneous times
and deserted wastelands

looking behind often..
checking if you were still following
Only now that I felt that
you really disappeared

I find myself lost in
a Poppy field
your fragrance in the breeze

It happened again
just now
Who brought it
I wonder

It cant possibly be
this crimson spring sun
or  youthful green
The Lilly stem
it cant be the moss wrapped stones
or  tadpoles in the puddle
it cant be you either
or the mirror reflecting me


and yet I  am
intensely happy

Some other day
you shook my hands
and left on them
the fragrance of
a childhood sea

I see you there
selling flowers
On rainy days
such as this

And the chaos
seems like a mere
predilection of an old soul

The wretched umbrella
fights the stormy gale
you smiled ?
ofcourse you didnt
Life is though 
incredibly beautiful

 

watery green day
heavy as love
 
watery brown eyes
beautiful

watery blue dusk
city lights wake up

I did Love - Really

I stared at the ripples
of spring rain
on my secret black 
pond

And watched the
little leaves
A million greens
dancing with the
invisible drops

I promised to work
if a cloud rumbled like
one of those monsoon days

But then I have
always broken promises

turn turn turn

The canvas
gathered dark clouds
and  Black eyes 
bathed in sea salt

Evening fell
a little early
and the sun
touched his
curls


barren time
whispers

this could be the end
or maybe a start

 

              (1)

Running fingers through
my hairless scalp
I breathe in another
Sunset


My "Y" has become
like the ones in
your inky letters



           (2)

You walked in wet
soaked in winter rain

you chirped
you fluttered

In my kitchen
the hissing kettle

smoked another
spring another
Monsoon

First Jan

Through  misty haze 
I gathered fragments
of a tattered me
The storm came wailing and
Blew it all and
Here I sit with a clutter of
ash half burnt

And here I love ye all
ye the desirable
ye the ugly -  ye who came
ye who went away
who loved me
and you - who didn't

I stand beautiful
under rain
The cigarette tip
still red
and till when
who cares
Between my fingers
I breathe the fragrance
of moist green grass

30 th Dec

what ends tomorrow
and what starts the day after


I never seriously thought
That I was wrong

Until today when they
They all in a drunken frenzy


shall giggle and dance
in a circle holding each other

The slanted sun touched
me when i came

When evening gave way to night
we floated in shaded lamp light

The traveller left
after morning tea
as the pale sun rose
unnoticed behind
a rainy autumn mist
Today, I  wish to plant
a purple gerbera
beside the brick path
moss filled

Summer fades away
like the sweet smell of youth
Misty memories linger
This winter,  I promise
they shall all turn to dew

The curtains in the study
are yellow and orange now
Blue ones are gone with
the rainy months

I have preserved your
tooth brush and
the red pencil.

I don't miss you any longer
But oh ! yes
I do sometimes
miss your missing me

Fumes of charcoal smoke
fill the barren
the arid soul
Naked under winter mist
A vast expanse of grass-less land
between love and the love-less

Nothing - A dull something
tip-toes over the Sunday brunches

through library afernoons
and red wine suppers
And cities fade into
green marshlands
And rainy hills breed
Violet flowers

A mirrored room where
they dance and sing
Perfumed women and
their men
and their children
and grandchildren pink
Circles and cubes glittering

Black water gurgles through
open drains. Imagine
what would happen
if I fell
fell deep and vanished

A ladybird crawls
over the dazzling fluorescence
The TV

He loathes sleep
cause that implies a waking
and a day

The night is safe
and this sofa red
Street lights sleepless

Equidistant


just awake
waiting for tea
and

behind his eyes
chinese ink blots through
moist paper
and


he can hear
the roaring sea

The city lay tired
flaccid after a long
orgasm
You roll to
the other end
of the bed

I am not sleeping
I  am not weeping

Your smoke
reach the
clouds

Your rain aint me

Another date
puts a bunch of
these days months
and seconds
in the book shelf
of stories

The fragrance in the breeze

I am so glad
that I love.

In its pain I live
Its songs 
chime my requiem.

Why do I care
that you do
Not exist
You never did.

Evening ink seeps
through the clutter
of green thoughts


the shadows of
longings eternal

It shall be Dark soon
dark dark dark
Very dark, Very soon