User Review( votes)
written by: Nisha Raviprasad
Through the showers of early dawn
somewhere afar a train hoots,
in it playing different tunes
are more than a hundred hearts.
on the old wooden desk by the window
a handful of
bugs lie entangled in betrayed silence
a rooster afraid his voice might fail him soon
crows and crows till the sun’s first rays
strike his crest.
the faint fragrance of mogra shrouded in the mist
rekindles thoughts in my brain
reminiscence of youth and love
an almanac that proved delusive
my heart has stopped many a time
but my breath has never ceased.
I switch off as simply as I can
those reeling tapes of a lost past
the caffeine in the cup bleed into me vigor
as I slot in tasks for the present.