Sunday, 17 October 2010


One desultory summer noon
I burned a few pages
In a speechless corner
Of a tidy kitchen

The pages were a hue
Of blushing pink
Deep and light
Intertwined with
A few ink drops
Of pearly words
Woven to an
Imperfect song

The blue flames were lit
With unshaken hands

I watched the pages
Curl and churn
Into Charred dreams
With mist-less eyes

There after life stood by
And time ticked on
Rolling days into
Months and years….

Doors were closed
Windows shut
The sheets and drapes
Were left untouched
Life went by
Like a ripple less lake
Stagnant in thought
Muted in words

Years later………
On sun set days
A mist gathers in
The dreams though late
As I sit by an open
Window curtain less

Years ago……..
The moon dust had
Trickled off my palms
In crystal gray heap
Into the hapless recycle bin

Today I feel………
I had mistaken a step

The ashes if strewn on
The meadow afar
Clusters of colour
Would have draped
By far a barren land
In shades of red

Today I feel……
A tale was left
Deliberately untold
A dream strangled
Before unfurl

Today I think
By a gaping window
Agog with wonder
And perhaps unease
Why did I erase the dotted lines?

The ugly wounds
The gawky gashes
A story stitched &
Tailored to pale
In a pall of gloom
I repressed so soon………

Doesn’t time heal the way?
As the wise men used to say……

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