Broken Burnt Bridges

Sometimes memories shine like sun
through the window of your heart,
transient hope jumps,
flapping its wings before falling
like this dark night that best defines us now.

Your fear of loss made me lose myself,
now you stand across the bridge,
burnt and broken.
A sudden waft of breeze brings the fragrance of friendship,
fanning the dust that is piling over the pages that we wrote once.

You had ventured into the valley of flowers,
looking for orchids,
two winters later you still stood there,
waiting for them to grow,
alone and aloof.

One such night, I dragged you away.
That night it rained and it has been the same ever since.

Now sometimes when rain brings rainbows,
I search in them the colour that best described us,
and mind scribbles verses that never found voices,
wailing guitar tunes which never could fight the tides.

Then one day you turned away with your moist eyes,
across the bridge, I watched in despair.
And all I can do was wait.

If someday,
you return to this broken bridge,
you will find me here.
I wish you do,
we will cry together
and talk about the futility of love and life then.

A rocking cradle

Slow chugging of a train,
A drowsy afternoon with arid air,
Broken walls, children, garbage pool,
Trees with limbs chopped off,
a barren field where kids weave a cricket story.

A temple with a saffron flag turned into a brownish red, 

like decomposed blood left to rust,
dozing off in the regularity of pungent sights of squalor, 

you drift.

A sudden thud of roaring engine breaks the reverie,
green replenished lands fill colour to the window, 

two electrical wires follow you through out, 

narrowing but never meeting.

A boy runs to take a quick single,
a train zooms past the frame, 

hawkers sell tea and samosa, 

a man cycles alone in a newly-laid piece of land, 

some buffaloes graze under the balmy sun near a small pond, 

we zoom past a crossing,

motorcyclists, passerbys, rickshaws wait for the train to pass.

Two black moles and a quiet smile,
Fading into a black hole and an endless drift,
We call home.

They say the endless maze leaves clues,
Doors no one cares to find,
Leading into a dark tunnel of memories,
Before you go blind.

Here time play tricks,
A slow slide show of last withering breaths.
Fight it, never commit.
Reprimand.

You stand at a distance,
Waiting for the night,
Before you bury it under the stone,
Slipping a fragment of yourself like a seed into the mud.