The
dust swept over the harvested field putting it to a dull sleep
And
withdrew with the wind into a scraggly bush.
I was very happy as a child –
Far away from this baking Sun.
In the evenings, I used to swing on the
hanging bunyan roots
Till dusk perched coolly on my shoulders.
Anesthetic
coolness
of
the plateau-evening.
I remember how in the evenings
we wore the rain all the way home from
school,
Mouth and eyes gaping open, running
against the striking rainthreads,
My vision always smarted till late night
in monsoons.
The
dead-snake road winds ahead,
Beyond
the sparsely leaved trees.
It felt good to fall in love back at my
place.
I remember how she fluttered and then
shut her eyes
as our faces started to blur in an
intense proximity.
It’s
dusk in the head.
I
listen to the dizzy procession of waves
In
a sea that I haven’t seen now for years.
I wasn’t looking till the rain smuggled
back in its entirety
All the ghosts to my hostel walls, in
spreading water-blotches.
I
sleep with naked nightmares
Breeding
in miraculous fuss
Maggot-like
memories
That
crawl up to my windows,
Tap,
sigh and wait for a reply.
I
am tired.
Oh,
to think
The
silliest illusion
Is
the hardest to lose.
