A scarlet pamphlet directed the seekers towards love.
They met again in unknown restaurant, unknown street.
Come to your senses, you foolish starry-eyed boy.
What’s this sunlight outside my window on a cold autumn day,
Is it summer again?
Please tell me it’s summer!
So, I can wear my floral dresses and walk down the streets,
Without fearing the chillness on the tips of my earlobes.
Can I eat a fudgy ice cream sandwich cake for breakfast?
Alas, my weather app says 4 degree Celsius
Or, should I rather say 39 degree Fahrenheit.
Albeit, it’s all the same, it is still cold outside.
So, I might as well grab my comforter
And snuggle deep inside it again.
It can get pretty scary up there. But finding a cozy cabin house after a treacherous journey on the edge of a mountain cliff will feel like being reborn.
To make it a heavenly experience, drink tea by the window and enjoy the view.
Gazing absently outside the window.
Dreaming of friendly company.
To share this slow day with me.
How wonderful it would be,
To discuss about music, movies, and bumblebees,
While munching away on cookies,
Along with lots of pots of tea.
‘Twas the wretched dream again.
Reminding me of a glorious day,
A time that my memory refuses to forget.
‘Twas a balmy summery day.
I wandered the streets of Paris again.
Where the trees bloomed decorously
Casting shadows on empty lanes.
There were bustling shops selling
Tiny trinkets and many souvenirs.
Parisian buildings were everywhere.
With the prettiest-looking artistic balconies
I stopped a moment to absorb the view
Then, ended up clicking just a photo of you
– A fallen abandoned leaf by my feet.
Yesterday, he called me in my dreams
Strolling in the dark green meadows
I turned around to look at him
Then walked away.
Next thing I know,
He is by my side
Giggling and questioning me with his eyes.
So I stop and ask, “Who are you?”
To which he replied “Your daemon.”
An old villa facing the ocean on a summer beach stands still.
Three steps take you into the house through a blue colored two-way door, a string of bells hang above it lightly tingling with the ocean breeze.
A white intricate design of rangoli greets you at the doorstep, you step in and walk on the red floored tiles and enter an authentic South Indian home.
In the open hall area hangs an oonjal wooden swing with iron-link chains anchored to the ceiling. The oonjal is decorated with two maroon bolster pillows on the sides.
The swing directly faces the entrance door, when left open, the door acts as a window to the ocean galore.
Tall pillars standing impressively in the middle of the house holding its weight.
The aroma of ghee from kitchen, freshly prepared vadas, and filter coffee drags you further in. Steamed rice cakes continue to cook in the pressure cooker with the whistle going on and off.
Just by the kitchen is an open area with an open ceiling and right in the center of it is a tulsi plant.
Dressed in a sari with a damp towel wrapped around her wet hair, she waters the tulsi plant and does puja.
Two little girls cheerfully run in the open area holding up their orange-colored lehengas and dropping a few buds of mogra flowers from their hair onto the ground while playing.
There is lively banter and cheerfulness in the air. Grandma talks incessantly with the maid while the maid washes clothes just around the corner of the house on a stone slab.
A stairway leads you to several more rooms, a young fifteen-year old girl walks on the corridor holding a book in her hand and reciting poems in her sing-song voice.
Just when we are about to enter one of the rooms, I wake up with a startle to the sounds of loud impatient honking from vehicles across the street. I look out the window and see streets bustling with people and cars, surrounded by tall blocks of boring concrete buildings. I let out a loud sigh thinking of my heartwarming South Indian dream and get back to living the usual fast-paced city life.
Who would have known
That I would sit here
Whiling away my time
Staring absently at the sky.
Sometimes a honey bee
Breaks my reverie
Sometimes I sip on my tea
Listening to chirping melodies.
Hours fly by
From daylight to twinkles in the sky
As I sit and dreamily wait
For my lover to walk through the gate.