It is drizzling
yet I miss the beauty of rain
As if it was downpour;
The midday is dim - the wonder of clouds
Yet…. I am in the dungeon of gloom.
Amidst light thunder and lightning
The crackers bloom and boom
I shut my ears and eyes like an elderly baraati.
She comes with a cup of hot tea
I find it utterly cold
The hotter fingertips sink like unwanted shower
In the dark cold drain.
All I know I’m not in love with myself,
I miss the sprinkle of fragrance in the drizzle;
Flowers may boom, Light may be cool,
I know I’m dead like deserted rock.
Muse , Dear lift me,
with your touch
I may be the Konark of emotions,
The Taj of memory,
The spark of ornaments;
I believe when lovers cannot, you can,
Can make me love again.