The lingering
Scent in the
Modest white top
Frilled,
And pleated black skirt
That ballooned out,
When you
Walked in the wind,
The simple pair,
Last worn
By you
When here,
With me,
In these closed
Curtained rooms;
Now,
The same wear, a shapeless
Simple cloth,
Hanging in the cupboard,
Like a winter coat and dark pant
In the hot summer,
Fluttering
Lifeless,
In the humid air
Of a whirring fan,
Reminding painfully,
Of your
Soothing laughter,
Your body scent
That invariably awakened
Something within,
On hot stuffy days;
Now, the same,
A mere apparel,
Making me aware
Of your
Fragrant presence,
Through a marked
Lack;
An active mind
Retrieving
From the daily clutter
Of cyberspace
And overstuffed rooms
Facing the damp sea,
The loud crystal laughter
That followed you
Everywhere,
No longer heard,
In these lonely rooms;
My love,
Calls,
Like a friend
Beckoning
From the opposite
Railway platform
In suburban Mumbai.
