grew up
in a house full of
roses
and lillies
and flora galore
she would enjoy with delight
those colours and forms–
oh, their beautiful sight!
however
all the same,
not the same
one could claim
of how
of their nectar and scent
she would opine
and so of it
she made a habit
–a habit
that
with her,
would delicately grow
–a habit
that she bore
in choosing all her things–
be they
clothes
shoes
or
human beings
people
would point-out,
they would
look down-upon and despise,
they would say
it wasn’t wise
they even tried
making him understand
that
it had come to be hers
and she
[had come to be] his–
vice
still–
for ages,
he waited
and
he still waits along
he probably will
wait more–for periods
just as long
for
he believes
that
her innocence lies
in that very sight–
the sight that sees
the form as being the sight!
it is this
very ‘vice’
that gives him
endless hope
and
it is this what makes
his eyes
shiny and bright
for ‘if she could adore it so much
–he says–
for what it looks like,
i presume,
just imagine
how wonderful
would it be,
to look
into her eyes,
when she sees it all…
for what it really is;
oh
wouldn’t that be
a marvellous
break of night ?!!
and for that moment
it is worth waiting
living till that moment
or waiting
and withering
in its
(lifesaving) anticipation!’
(04.02.2012 | Mumbai)
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