Circa 1993, a splendid corrosion of old identities
dissolved at a business school
the mindset of allowing
new ipseity to harness itself
took me to my new evanescent dream
which was never to be
a cursory stealing glance from her
through my accounting notes
was enough fodder for my anticipation
somehow lead us to exchange our phone numbers
and the first call was missed
as I was away, attending the “beating retreat”,
a celebration of the republic
it was a joy of the superlative kind
can’t manifest here, in few words
the news of a phone call was full of a beatitude
Delhi was never so beautiful
the next wintry day
made me see
a girl in shawl over few cups of tea
over the terrace of an old building,
a makeshift education space
I scatterbrained myself, off balance
wore a black sweater
matched with her black shawl
traffic flew by the time
gentle breeze swayed her hair
while I was engrossed in her simplicity
the picayune lectures were the last things
in my euphonical mind
that hourly chat
and the subtle undertones
of platonic smiles
with the skies of innocence
was perhaps the best
sound of a mellifluous romance
and a theme for lost sleeps
for many fortnights
but this was a love story
which was never to be
a debacle of certain kind
disturbed by destiny
diluted my perseverance
but forever enshrined
in the density of my mind
Comments
Post a Comment