illusions

He makes window frames
on the walls that are cold and stoic
with the ageing of the years.
Often, people come and open the frames,
to find more walls.
He did not create windows,
only illusions of the openings
that do not exist.

Mobile

Send a smiley that i react to when I wake up
Mesmerize me with a message,
I have mobile expectations.

Her Roses

The spring that did not stay
her garden was all decay
but shrubs of roses smiled in corners till late,
sometimes she wonders if roses hallucinate.

Cedars have seen winter gone
she stands like the roses all alone
nights shrink cold around her shawl
she collects the roses when they fall.

Felicity

I read your words, mesmerized
like fireflies in the frosty nights
absorbed words in surreal emotions
play havoc with my rational thoughts,
driving me to a rebellion against self
over depreviation of expectations.

The words you create, lift me
to a plane that I once revered,
I relive the dreams through you
smile, smile, I smile
I read your words, mesmerized
like fireflies in the frosty nights.

on passion

"The moment passion is too concentrated it becomes overwhelming."

- by Esha Verma

Vintage

Shape of my dreams is bit obsolete
Like the cars we call vintage,
I live in that world when I sleep.

Ode to Age

Somedays he is bougainvilllea on old mill walls
hanging over mostly eroded edges
declaration of aged years
resurgent with a new times.

Other days he is a simple deodar
holding roots in slopes of mountains
content of being a commentator
on winds that once passed these corridors.

Red

I don't like Red
Paint me a rainbow
With only six colours
And see if you can
Arrange Indigo
Between Green and Yellow.

As I see it

Love has settled for routine, and
We break routine in most romantic ways
You drop me a rose at my office
And call my colleagues to check
If color on my face matches that of rose.

Things are simple, like always
I make breakfast and you dinner, except
On weekends when we change roles
For the sake of change, and some fun.

As I see it, things haven't changed much,

You still shout at me for not removing shoes
At the door, as I carry rain into the living room.

As I see it, things haven't changed much
We have kept them moving in more convenient ways.

Sensuality of words

Sensuality of words is drawn on the lines
of your lips, twitching at where you
bite, as you hear me sing one line of
your favourite poetry.