Trudging through the lanes of unremembered faces
The dusty streets of the Delhi summer
Shake me and bring forth, the impression of reality
Which is nothing but surrealism wrapped in sequin
And I see you through these impressions
Carefully plodding through those mazes
Writing endlessly and loving your beloved
And perhaps making coffee for the evening.
Musings that I cannot express
Probably stay aloft the boat of thoughts
That you put across and relate to a cause,
And oh! I love that smile over the steam
That rises from that steel plate of hot food.
Darkness has been a good friend to me
Perhaps you too find solace in it
Hopes and affections recreate my reality
And it’s just the satiating smell of the old book
I am sure that we shall remember both.
