Which was never meant to be

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

The warmth of a ballad that is you

Few hours are already gone but the aroma of that one hour in the morning today brilliantly matches the feeling that you get when you meet someone who is prepossessing, with the eyes that sparkle perpetually and the wise fragrance of the warmth that starts with a generous hug and sets the day as a therapy in action that beautiful heartful hour when the city was flirting with half sun and half of patchy clouds, was a kind of a poem if one considers steaming breakfast and a animated chatter with a loving human as a complete verse All of it, now that I recall was like a spiritual serendipity, a subtle mindfulness something that I really wish I can describe in these random lines Soulful connections do not always happen randomly there is this organic urge to meet, confabulate and ignite our worlds with each others' presence Your presence is a soothing tender balm and as I take this deep breath and close my eyes I imagine this day would perch in my mind as a sunny bright day where the coo

A

Your aura is consistently brewing in my intractable mind need I say I am drenched in it? the day I met you, and it is so recent like the flower that has bloomed in this spring of transcendence the beating heart and the soulful parleys co-existed, at least for me, in those three hours the beguilement of your demeanor and the insights of your innocence it is all embedded in the cells of my prefrontal cortex, refusing to vanish, reluctant to let-go I cannot detach your thoughts from my current state of meditative nonchalance and that is how it has to be as a strain of Sun touches the feet when I write this at the cusp where the departing winter morning seduces in its spell I can't help but smile and close my eyes I am smitten in a most undiscernible way It is subtle in many ways, definitely profound from another version of my own truth and there are few side effects my intellect has become more illuminated and I am charmed into new horizons of hope I cannot really explain this so

Your eyes, that smile

your eyes translate your inner conflicts immaculately they shed tears when skewed by innocence or when you rise in love I always see your eyes when i visit that cafe and in the shadow of all the noises of food and cutlery I sneak my glances at you not so deliberately or so it appears if someone could sue me for being lustful towards your eyes I will go broke that smile spoils my character it's like meditation I lose myself all the while the combination is tyrannical for my beliefs

Sandeep Kulshrestha's Poetry

Search This Blog