A rural lady
With her ten year old baby
Comes in the market
Wearing old chappal in feet
and ghaghra- lugdi on body
While daughter in salwar-suit
Both are walking on the road
Without any fear of heat strokes
of forty five high temperatures
Looking at a confectionery shop on the way
Child's heart is tempting
Mother understands the matter of her mind
Without worrying about her poverty
She bought her a "kachori" for ten
Baby takes "kachori" in her hand
and walks with pride n all smiles
Soon baby starts eating
the "kachri " during moving on their way
It is the beauty of childhood
Which do not see the place
Just finishes the purse of mind anywhere it finds a space
This is the thing that shows the height of the relationship
That makes parents god for children
So maybe God is also pleased
Because in the summer we
avoid eating oil made items
On the other hand mother feeding goodwill probably do not harm health
Rupees Money Jewelry Clothing Is not anything
Only mother is everything
Winter heat rain can't break
the mother's protection
Because mother's love is pure
supreme of the super
Which is formidable
to every weather and obstacle

Woman, yet we spent thousand nights of Heart Stopping Blood Rushing Love in sacred moonlight

We spent the first norwester from the balcony of our yellow college

We sat in half dark college room with excitement in eyes waiting for the first rain

We stand together in one umbrella in the storm, soon it flew and we held each other with the falling flowers kissing us

We ran through the pavement of slippery cement, with our hands tight in each other

We reached the bus stop and in the first blue lightning
We both scared, nervous but laughed!



Woman, we took the metro ride in the horribly hot summer
Sweat gathered like pearls on your forehead
We walked through the Presidency College and then to the Coffee House
The scent of books everywhere
And the thud of our heartbeat loud enough
To embarrass us
Until we found the corner table
When on the wall the golden sun fell like a sculpture of Michael Angelo
As if a curtain removed, as if a moment of no return
And everything changed.




Woman, I never say I am perfect
Neither are you
We loved like as if there is no tomorrow
Perhaps there never was
Yet we loved we sang we wrote secret letters fragrant of pregnant clouds with rain
We met in incredible places, below a lamppost, near a Kachori shop, outside the green door of your house
A bus stop with hundred people waiting, in alleys of book shops and call of the hawkers
The walk through the forgotten roads, in Puja Mandapas, through rail crossings
We were so young we never thought of bodies
Until that orange afternoon when you
Gave me your first kiss.



We were so pure that we were cursed
You often said that, and our dreams always danced around the Eutopia of nothingness
We thought of a Ulysses within us
Which exist nowhere
Until our love became so intense that fire rose
And we both burnt altogether in that fire
Yet we live
all alone
In different cities
Different world
But at midnight often we look at our naked bodies with the touches with the scars still painted like brushstrokes of Van Gogh

We smile then
Like in silence, the lovers do.