Wednesday, June 22, 2011


He made a paper-boat
Of the wrinkled tissue paper
The emblem of the coffee-shop
Gracing its sail.
He smiled at his new masterpiece,
"It's not about this peach colored boat
It's about the lost childhood,
Rains are coming..."

He tried to explain,
Honestly, for once..
They mocked and left.
The paper boat stayed a little longer
On his table and in his mind,
Before it was swept away
In the tide of the nothingness
That filled his days.

A few clouds of memories
Passed over him,
Under the endless blues
Of a sky stretched across the times,
He looked at the marigolds
Their sun-kissed yellow
Like her evening dress,
And his bicycle tripped,
Again in front of that wrought iron gate.
Another sun melted away,
Another unforgiven day dragged its feet
And her giggle still floated in the air.

Sometimes, he talked about
An unforgotten love
A school girl who never grows old
An old rickety bicycle
And streets of a forgotten town.

Sometimes, he looks at them
And a smile shies away
They understand not
What he says.

He smiles, nevertheless,
And the birds stay back with him
Even after it's dark..

A dreamer...
A loner?
Is he?

(c) Ankur Srivastava 

Thank you Kirti for giving me this muse  :)