Hardik Vaidya

(26 Dec 1969, yet to kick the bucket. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)

Interruption.


Interruption.

Again,
A phone call,
Disrupts my thoughts.
Why was a shut out,
What was shut that was out,
Knowing,
Yet feigning ignorance,
Bargaining for ones own faults,
Sticking up to process failures,
Not wanting to admit,
Introspect,
Analyze,
And thus be a romantic,
Business is least understood,
If well,
The phones will stop ringing,
And life will start humming.
With the tune of Beethoven.
Mozart, his moonlight night,
Alas if we knew what were lit,
If not,
What were licked,
Humid, warm and succulent,
Turgid with the Geeta
Of your understanding.

Hardik Mahesh Vaidya.

Submitted: Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, November 20, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

I hope poemhunter realises the harm of the honk. She may not, she because that is what holds us, and may not because she is too preoccupied.

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