Why, in the shades of black and white,
Red, appears lucrative to every eye?
Fanned expressions and the roving –
Eyes, catch momentary glimpses and
Nostalgia arrests concentration.
The fingers loosen, the mind drifts
To memories of bespectacled faces;
And a beautiful, deceptive eyelash,
Serenades into the nostalgic airs.
The song seems familiar, yet subtle –
The eyelash quivers in an approval,
Probably, balmy evenings are canny –
Hesitant eyelids give way, and meet.
I knew she was hiding – as usual.
My sad eyes gave that knowing smile,
She reciprocated with her eyelash.
‘Where were you’, demands the silence.
Guess, I was always here – by your side.
Clocks tick by inconsequentially..
Voices subside, the hearts close in.
Amidst clouds of smoke and colours
The afternoon rolls by with aplomb.
A few grey streaks have been in vain –
You still inspire the artist’s hand…
The brush seems alien to the bankers
Red, white, black and denominations
Engross me more than the warm green,
The shielded eyelash, which is, to me –
Floxynossynihiliphilification.
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