And went away.
Roses for St.Valentine, roses for the Lord of Love,
Unwrap your feelings or him,
The feeling of the heart.
Offer to him to
Or pray to him at least for once
On St.Valentine’s Day.
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The solar eclipse
Visible,A cosmological phenomenon.
There is hunger all around, hunger and thirst,
Away from the circuit of modern culture and civilizationInto the country,Underneath the heating sun,Scorching sun and sun-burnt hot summer daysAnd the hot wind is blowing, the loo lashing,The hot wave ruffling it all,Everything hot-hot,The hot sun, hot day, hot wind, hot season,There is no respite, no relief from,People sitting under the banyan, peepul and mango…
Under the gulmohars hanging by
dream Iof my loveat noondaywhen the scorching sunruffles it allI dream ofthe sweet coming of my lovewhen the gulmohars hang byred-red and vermillioned,florid and clustered,fiery red and flamingat noonday
They were awfully drunk
But revealed not their identity,Just had been talking in drunkenness,In an inebriated state,WhisperingAnd talking in a slow voice,Two protagonists, personae could I guess,The theatre artistes of lifeWere they.
Shakuntala and Dushyanta
Nautankibaaz,The husband cannot recognize wife.
What do the people know about it?
How the concept of it?Is to be modern to be frank, bold and up-to-date?Is to be modern to look handsome or beautiful?