Monday, June 30, 2014

The Mountains and the Housefly

[Discovering love was funny. And for me it happened when I was 5 . She was our English teacher. Thought of writing something for her. Wish I could write back then. Might have saved her from the muscular mustached tall weird looking handsome rich guy :) ]




From the back waters to the Kutch 
To the deep dense forest as much
From the Dal Lake to the hills
To the Nilgiri that thrills 
I think of a world...a free white dove
I think of you....drenched in love

From the monsoons to the spring
To the melancholic telephone that never ring
From the cannons to the fort
To the name stuck in my throat
I think of one, the one born free
I think of you…and the pensive banyan tree…

From the books to the lanes
To the fights that never had names…
From the rhymes to the chores
To the waves which never reached shores
I think of nothing, still think of you
I think of love, its still so you…

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