He’s left her and gone.
She’s all alone
in the nest they built together
furnished with Persian carpet,
upholstered sofa set,
a marble statuette,
and countless bric-a-brac.
Every item
reminds her of him –
bead curtain bought
on a holiday in Goa,
terra-cotta candle stands
from Pondicherry,
giant conch shells
from Juhu beach.
She goes up the terrace,
watches the sun set
beyond Bannerghetta.
She waits
with breathless longing
to join him
beyond sunset.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
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12 comments:
'breathless longing to join him beyond sunset'
you can create such soulful, gentle pictures with your words...
Thanks Gauri, thanks for really reading.
Images of a white-haired old woman in a white sari spring to mind. Beautiful.
A van nalh ve.
*bows to the queen*
Simple, yet so well described. Poignant.
@Aduh, Seki, Thanks. Illusionaire, min ti lai.
Beautiful and sad, too. The memory of a loved one hurts, but I don't think anyone would want to obliterate those memories even to cancel out all the hurt.Kept re-reading it over and over again... very evocative.
First poem I've read over twice in one sitting!!
@Kuku, yeah, the hurt may torment, but the memory will still be cherished.
@Philo, thanks for reading, twice at that.
Kan thluaka lut ve phak lo hi in phawrh chhuak zung zung mai a.
@Te-a, thluaka lut phak lo tih chu awihawm love a! La tawn hriat loh tih anih chuan thu hran.
Hi, i needed your help. could you give me your email? mine is gauri dot gharpure @ gmail.com
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