Another wintry day petals over petals of quiet wind hiding a warmth from these streets of old delhi where fables had once been strangled in the lunacy of a crowded moment and you today going alone somewhere on a rickshaw in the midst of a mist unaware of streets that have long surrendered to the frost on your lips the old man fort holding a respite of hurts in a sky of sewn blue haunted I see you turn around suddenly catching the freeze in your grip as the rickshaw catches another lane another day in wintry old delhi.
