I could have brushed all of it aside,
And would sit under a saffron sky, 
singing songs of patriotism.
But I can see the clouds milling around, 
embracing into a pattern.

The winds swept away my home, 
rain melted all my paper boat dreams 
but nothing changes the face of clouds.
They look back with crimson eyes now, 
thundering down with a frenzy. 
Its stares can burn past me,
and turn me into dust,
a mannequin of ashes.
The breeze that whispered meekly once
now breaks into a vitriolic scream. 

What this euphoria and pride for? 
Why this chest thumping for belonging?
This longing for a home 
which doesn't figure even in your honeymoon packages? 
Is it for what you and me wear in our fingers 
or dangles around our neck 
or its for the one we could not bribe our way out, 
though we try everyday?


Alas! This sudden saccharine love 
makes hating the only option now.