Lies were subdued perhaps
on the railway tracks,
rails polished silver new;
time repaired old rust:
good is all that time seldom does!
A gust of hot air
slapped my face,
its intensity quartered
by the window rails
but it did not fail!
Not a matured summer it was
yet the winds tried hard
to burn the half-fried portions
of the old man's samosas
waiting to be bartered
for the day's lunch!
The ashes on the slopes
of the unknown hills
stayed unresponsive,
black and grey.
Charred forest bumps
await the first rains.
The ashes are teased,
heated airs making efforts
to burn them again
unaware of scientific postulates!
Warm yawns
on railway windows
were greeted by
the journey winds
that whipped across each
uncovered mouth
like numerous pots in open yards
filled by unexpected rains!
Unlit tunnels were exciting.
The winds got lost
in darkness within them,
and I was allowed to re-arrange
my pant's brownish belt;
dust and sands
dressed me a true traveller:
window's hook so stubborn
like donkey of a miser!
No comments:
Post a Comment