Long ago
I wrote a poem for a girl
talking about her eyes and her smile
her love and her dreams
...
May be she is trapped inside a water droplet
Resting on a green leaf
Of a rose plant
in the eden garden
...
she wields her silence like a brush
painting the magnum opus
of pain and more pain
on the canvas of my heart.
...
Roses smell differently
When you fry them in a pan
With lot of ghee and
Little bit of sugar
...
Years from now
when you are old
with grey hair
wrinkled skin and
...
You can hate me
the rest of your life
but today
let me love you
...
I walked a million steps
up the steep mountain
to meet her and talk to her
...
While
I like to
Spread my heart
On the beach for a tan
...
Conjuring a dream
in the pantheons of visceral reality
muck up brain plays intricate games
with a moribund heart
...
Sometimes
I take a colouring book
And paint the sky black
At other times
...