A flood of dancing circles,
My first alphabet in muddy water
Leaning over the banisters,
I overhear them,
As usual, of Smart City,
Of Internet banking,
Of how Wipro lost its project.
Reminiscences,
Only a few,
Once my mom came to my school
To show my identification marks,
At nine,
rubber groves and sunken lanes,
hovering over me,
I was thirteen then,
We went for an excursion,
I collected the photographs of my friends,
After three years,
My professor said,
Your reading on resonance column is wrong,
At twenty,
I closed my eyes,
When our car broke down
On the way to my Granny’s funeral,
When I was twenty two,
I used to say,
I don’t know anything
Later,
I picked a green tender leaf
From a mosanta in my courtyard.
Frankly speaking you left the reader read further and farther beyond the last three lines' Later, I picked a green tender leaf From a mosanta in my courtyard. sure i will come to the very shoe you were on when you closed that poem with. it is the unsaid that is found being said. i start to read you again good luck you are no noive anymore. take from me.
A story of your life. Well written and quite pleasant. I enjoyed.
I like the sequence of the pictures, the sequence of life. The poem remains open..invites us to continue your trip. As a poet, you have trapped us in the poem. This is the power of the poem, regardles if its incoherence of the scenes.Go ahead
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiful write...............good going there