~Bhim Thatal~
Those baked chapattis of Hotel Nashraj were sumptuous
We had eaten together in the comfort zone.
It was very hot then there
In the excessive humid weather
The Sun had printed its indelible marks on your face.
On our being the citizens of this nation
And having shouldered certain responsibilities
We were being formally trained for life and livelihood.
Together, close with each other
We used to rationalize
Our parting as ultimate fate.
It had rained somewhere in the mountains
The Brahmaputra was muddy.
Leaf, tree, mud, bottle, bandage
Spring, wishes, life, dream and wound
The river swept all
Murky, murky was it.
Remember,
Holding the arms of the moonlight in the evening
To sail through the Tsunami, the Rita and the Katrina inside us
We had boarded that boat on the Brahmaputra,
But that boat never set sail.
x x x
Those baked chapattis of Hotel Nashraj must still be sumptuous
The price of that decorative piece must have fallen down
Which we had left because of poor bargain
People must be filing in to the temple as earlier
The Brahmaputra must be calm and clear by now
Many things, which were unseen then, must have come to light
By now, that boat must have set sail
Without taking us.
