A lean plain-faced insignificant figure,
With a green ribbon around his neck holding a card,
Dressed in the same khaki clothes everyday,
Walks the walk of an old ghost that knows,
Where it has come from,
But has just been denied redemption.
Rather, he has been cursed,
With an object-less stare,
An ear deaf to the world around - and,
Long pointless hours, forcing him to give in,
To a world, he merely dared to live in.

Greetings, Sky.
I have been away.
It's been years,I reckon.
But I have not forgotten how tenderly you cradled me like the grandmother I never had.
I loved you like a love dream and you loved me back.
And yes,I remember,
How like a ball was every night,when the stars danced to sweet cosmic tunes!
How like an encounter with God Himself, Reading to me the story of creation!
But how like a dream,
It ended!

I came to you the other night,
For the sake of a humble discourse.
I talked at the top of my lungs,
And you didn't answer.
Everything has changed.
I must add,
That friend who often visited you with me,
The one who was very fond of you,
Wants to rid himself of his own existence now.
But so would I wish on myself, should you remain indifferent,any longer.
Why! God!
Why the inevitability of certain circumstances handicaps us, to even practise our own will?

I,thus in shame cry and bid you adieu,
And I pray we mend our friendship anew!

Come, Friend.
I'll show you around the house and tell you all the trivial things that remind me of her.
(Here in the hallway)
These stacked, empty shoeboxes,
That I now keep my poems in,
These bare walls that I suppose,
She could make a better use of,
(In the living room)
This monochrome vintage tv,
That she'd have thrown out,
My books lying haphazardly on the table,
That she'd have cleared up,
My guitar that hasn't been restrung for 7 months,
The pictures of Dutch tulip fields,
The multilingual posters on the wall behind the TV,
Like a pretentious polyglot,
(Now,the kitchen)
And this bitter fragrance of tea leaves,
This divine scent of cardamom,
Rising from a hot cup of tea,
The rattle of kettles,
These dying rose petals,
Parmesan and cheddar,
The cheesier the better,
All of that pickled food,
According to my mood,
The battle of spices,
Those gingerbread slices,
Everything-
Everything reminds me of her.
"She's but a figment of your imagination,friend."
She's but a figment of my imagination, friend?

Distorted midday dreams
Deepest unwelcome fears
Uttering thunderous screams
With inglorious tears

A warm but scentless gaze
Limited by these walls
Lies fixed on you these days
While a dread in me crawls

In the remembrance of bows and curtsies,
Amidst the shed leaves,of pale memories,
I stood marred by, and married to your heart,
Thus, in question,your each and every part.

But like the sun at night stood forgotten,
Looking for a love never-begotten;
And seeking all the answers I was due,
Much like a priest sworn,did I worship you.

But unanswered prayers had love, undone,
Thus then against me, your self-conceit won.

Let the breeze whisper
Maiden songs the river knows
You loved like the kiss
Under that fair mistletoe
While the hourglass stood calm

I dreamt a dream but when the night was young,
And the moonlight sang lullabies,that doves-
Fair-feathered slept to,while boughs at guard hung,
Like a lover stands eyeing her, he loves.

I dreamt a dream that I had discovered,
In the most unexpected of places,
In epiphanic manner uncovered,
The true possessor of divine graces.

There was a chant that I heard in the dream,
That made me, unknowingly, pledge my soul;
Thus, 'To thee,to thee' did I sing and scream,
And woke up,as if released on parole.

(Later.)

Queen Mab,yet again blessed me at hour wee,
And O, did I dream? And what did I see?