Sitting somewhere far from home thoughts are a nagging child in my village fair It's summertime now back home long summers of grumbling pigeons pecking on sunrays in our courtyard.
Do you remember then, Aavantika ? when the soil broke outside to a selfish sun and the stray wind struck relentlessly on our memory panes, when sweat mingled on our tongues quenching finally the sanity of a parched earth, when our eyes locked up together searched nooks of rejoicing in the purdah of desires, when my hands cupped behind your dupatta veil held dampness on an arching sky...
When I first uttered words for you that were never really spoken, when we tread deeply in the softness of a filtered light and flavor from the khus curtain, when I held incessantly to your tangled hair, untoward whispers and tender breath touches of the half moon hidden before offering...
Do you remember then, Aavantika ? that loving had always been a long summer, wild in the countryside of our dreams...
