?

For the hundredth time,
I am considering a Goodbye;
I've given you an intro,
the beginning to an ending chapter.
I've given myself a fright,
i wonder what you'd think of it.
Am i convincing enough?
Do you really believe?
Will you consider my appeal?


The main course will come,
A surprise it's suppose to be!
What shall i do?
What will you say when it's laid open to you?
Will you ask me to stay behind?
Will you let me fly away?
Does it matter to you at all,
if i go or stay?


Do you want it wrapped or fully opened,
or just in part?
How would you like it best my Dear?
...thrown at your feet or over the phone,
even maybe over a cup of coffee...
well, the aroma may be so soothing.

Many summers, winters,

autumns...
Does it make any difference at all?
Am i still thousands of miles away
or just an inch behind your legs?
Does it really matter?
...whether you love or care
Your heart has always been lying
somewhere between me and you.

(*For my dear AM, who is neither here nor there!)

The red shirt Baba

There is an expression I cannot quite read
on the face of a young boy begging for food.
Day after day after day
looking at the same old dirty railway track,
in the hope that the well-feds will share some.
Baba had watched it many years back
and now he is doing the same thing.

Train after train after train
day in and day out, it’s never ending.
Crying babies in their mother’s arms,
heartbroken lovers’ last chance to reconciliate
before the train comes and tear them apart,
forever apart in the land of the living!

Suitcase upon suitcase
on the head of the coolie running towards the platform.
His red shirt makes him stand out in the crowd
and everyone knows that he is a coolie,
Who earns his living by carrying people’s luggages around.
Rupee by rupee he saves
for one day he'll send off his good daughter
clad in all that glitters
in a marriage that the gods have arranged.
O what a joy ! She’ll be a wife and he, very soon a Baba
The red shirt Baba he will be.