For long, my house has been lying deserted
My gate has not been opened wide to let in anyone
No guest has so far come to visit me
Tired of distant wanderings
I have come here to listen to the beat of silence
Occasionally broken by the sound
Of birds' laughing wings overhead
Here I have brooding shadows for company
Hermit like I wrap myself in my solitude

Now abruptly when you announce your arrival
I feel excited and equally perplexed
What shall I serve you? I am at a loss
My hearth has not been lighted for long
And my kitchen pots remain empty
I know I should serve you
Something chilled or warm
In my menu, I have a simple surprise
But not of the edible kind
Nor delectable to your palate
But as I have known you since long
I hope it will appease you

In poetry’s platter
I shall serve my thoughts warm,
Garnered in the lonely hours
Of my solitude!

The only dish I have!

No one could ever touch
the  s u n  's  surface.
No one could ever embrace
the whispers of the  w i n d ,
& the depth of the s e a s.

But they could . . .

The sun even from a faraway,
sheds rays of light,
The wind that tingles our skin
in a cold night,
And water that drowns us,
from head to toe,
soak us. .

Just how unfair
That there would always be things
That can  t o u c h  us,
K i l l   us. .
But we can't.

why?
why did i let you.
you treated me like a baindaid
you needed me
when you were hurting
but as soon as
you were better you ripped
me off and threw
me out.