If I could do a Neruda,
You would have smelt of summer roses
And Autumn pine.
There would have been sheer love
Of the kind that causes our hearts to ache
And loneliness bordering the divine.
You would have had so many secrets
Welling up as in a girly giggle
And so few friends who would hear them all.I am no Neruda
I can't paint you a Summer breeze
Amidst this long winter chill.
When it was time for her to go, it was also time for me to
let go. Once an irritant is washed out, they say you can start seeing better
immediately. All that stupid tears and all that rubbing of the soul, until your
eyelids would cry out, no more, no more. And then, just like that, one fine
day, I wake up, and she was gone. As
the train chugged out
The tracks cried out in senseless
creaks of half despair
Every time I close my eyes
I see the green of Kerala countryside
The dark greens of lumbering rubber trees
The even tranquil green of silent paddy fields
The light lemon yellow green from tender clover leaves
And then I remember your dupatta
Deep red or possibly maroon
Standing out among the Kerala countrysides.