This is the time in Pune when everything seems romantic, from lush green trees on the roads to the sweet smell of post-rain earth. When all the romantics unite, this is the city's monsoon time. Alone in my apartment on a lazy Sunday, my thoughts wandering everywhere in the mash of memories, fantasies and imagination .. I ended up writing this peace, a poem if you might call it that. So roll up your sleeves and bear with me, my fellows -
The last time we met, cool wind blew through your hair
You wore black, shining like a diamond in the night sky
Your eyes twinkled just the right way, and you told me
something I was waiting for someone to say
In the midst of confusion, you showed me the way!
The last time I saw you, while standing at your gate
Your pretty face dazzled, the breeze lighting you up like a
candle
Your shine percolated through my veins
I saw you smiling, your hair flowing on your face .. and
Ghosh I said, it would never be the same again!
Last thing I remember , it was the wind, the gaze and the
beautiful you ..
Time to leave I thought, but it wasn’t easy to get through
That night was the one I would remember for the times to
come
Little did I know, it was less of Roses and more of Guns!
Life moved on, the wind was gone
But the rains are again here, people say love is in the air
It always works in cycles, and the wind is here to stay
This time to touch another face, in the same or even better
way ;-)
