As I watch time hurry past…

I could not write to describe you.

Much as I desired to ascribe to you,

The winter and the fall in leaves of thoughts,

All my literary  plans tied in frustrating knots,

Frozen in admiration,

Tired, lone, adoration,

Twigs of frail memories,

Icicles on my stories,

Yet I shall wait

Horizon  hope to light

In crimson dusk,

Paint your sight.

 

YFall3

 

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One more time…

Just that quiet unseen wave,

touch my heart , dart to weave,

hopes around sands that hurry,

onto tomorrow’s night so empty,

rushing on to welcome nothingness,

except those  freeze sparks to stillness,

Lost in those eyes, so much like history,

steeped in your misty minuted mystery

Encapsulate this moment.

Let me retreat to this rare treat.

Just sit and gaze

Frozen into those eyes

 

 

 

 

To Raj who left early

You left, hooked  on to an earlier ferry,

Did not therefore have to further tarry,

Your strong views , even stronger thoughts,

Strewn all over are your stringent notes,

Your intellectual interventions still linger,

My pen in protest, is now on a hanger,

Gathering dust devoid of solo critic,

May be, you were a shade unrealistic,

In a world of pragmatic, fortune  seeker,

An emerald lost to dream un-maker,

You were so hoping for a prodigal switch over,

To the clang and clamor of yester year,

An immigrant who desired to return,

Withdrew quietly to the ashes of an urn.

 

On Eating Alone

Eating Alone [Explored]
Eating Alone [Explored] (Photo credit: pennuja)
I sit at this long , lonely dining table,
Spread of feast  of dishes deceivable,

Green, wet, banana leaf in colors, splashes,
Your favorite pickle, spicy flashes,

I turn away to  stare at the ashen  floor-
its ginger and – lime red in oil and more,

Think of you;  cannot eat.

Recall  that  you abetted,   as we bunked,
Bicycled , hid, roamed, ‘berserked’, flunked,

We strayed, tired, dreamt, hungered together,
Told mom sympathy tales; sought food and cover,

Ate in ‘schemed’, swallowed, quietude,
Bonded  as we pretended, hurried.

Tonight, as I sit alone,
Its all memories in stone,

Rice, curry, fish and lime.
My thoughts wish sublime.

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